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thesugarclubs-blog · 14 days

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Ace of Hearts - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: enemies to lovers, secret feelings, late night confessions, new Avengers

word count: 7.8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1438059900-ace-of-hearts-alicia

vibe: "I'm testing something." Alicia whispered.

His brows furrowed in confusion as her hand crawled slowly up his arm until it stopped just below his elbow. "When was the last time you kissed someone?" She asked softly.

Masterlist

“Why are you like this?” Bucky asked following behind Sam as they headed towards the hangar. The last thing he needed on this mission was to be partnered with her.

“It’s one mission, Buck.” Sam laughed, “Besides, if we’re all going to be a team and play nice with each other, you have to learn how to communicate with Alicia.”

Bucky huffed as he glanced to the side as they walked. The building is much quieter nowadays. Well, as quiet as it could be. Both Parker and Bishop moved in a month ago and within a week Bucky had moved to the quietest hall in the building. The only probably now? His quarters were two doors down from hers…and that red hair… and those blue eyes that rival his own.

“I’m not the one with the communication issue.” He muttered quickly, earning himself a look from Sam. Bucky frowned. “I’m not! I’m her superior,” he started but the word felt foreign on his tongue and distasteful, “Ace hardly listens to any orders that I give her and when she does it’s her way.”

Sam sighed and stopped as they reached the Quinjet. “You know she hates it when you call her that.” His eyes darted around behind them checking for any of the other team members before speaking. “Listen, Alicia is a good addition to this team, a great one even. She’s got the skills you just refuse to see through whatever machismo front your putting up to hide the fact that somewhere deep down in that robo-brain of yours you actually like her.”

His heart started to race and it was one of the many times that Bucky was thankful Sam didn’t have super hearing. “I don’t like her.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, “okay argue with me all you want, but she’s still your partner on this mission so learn to actually listen to what she has to say.”

“I wouldn’t need to if she would just listen–”

“Reporting for Duty sir.” The sound of her voice carried through the hangar. Soft yet commanded the space around her. Chills ran down his spine the moment her footsteps stopped behind him.

“Agent,” Sam nodded, “you’ll be with Barnes today.”

Bucky turned just in time to see the slight fall of her features before she caught herself and pinned her shoulders back with a nod. “Great.”

Sam let out a chuckle and patted Bucky on the shoulder before climbing into the quinjet without them.

"Where do you need me, Barnes?" Alicia asked.

"Everywhere," Bucky thought, but managed to hold his composure in front of her. She looked at him with a raised brow, blue eyes boring into his with an intensity that he had to admire.

Alicia knew how to stand tall in front of him, shoulders rolled back so every vibe coming from her screamed confidence.

"You can go over the weapons once more, while I get the baby in the air. Make sure everything is as I taught you," he eventually answered. Alicia nodded, spun on her heels and stepped into the Quinjet.

"One mission," Bucky mumbled to himself while driving his fingers through his hair. His heart was galloping and he couldn't understand why. Maybe it was because her red hair and the confidence, that could easily be misjudged as arrogance, reminded him so much of Natasha.

Bucky had thought long and hard about the similarities the two redheads shared, but Natasha had inspired his confidence in his colleagues, encouraged him to embrace the team and fit in, Alicia's presence unsettled him. What was that phrase the kid used? Oh yeah, she set his spider sense tingling. He'd never really got over losing Natasha, both her and then Steve, and even Iron Dick at a push, had left him adrift.

As the Quinjet took to the air, Bucky could hear Alicia, talking herself through the weapons check routine he'd taught the new recruits. She might make him feel like there were ants under her skin, but he had to give her some credit, she was a quick learner when she put her mind to it. It was her damn fucking mouth, which she put into gear before fully engaging her brain, that made her so damn infuriating. And then that damn look, like the outcome had actually been planned and wasn't down to sheer pissing good luck. And for her then to have the cheek of accusing him of neither being an effective communicator or listener.

Bucky could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise and realized he's got goosebumps on his arms, as he turned to look over his shoulder he realized his nemesis was standing inches away.

“What?” He asked, moving to reach for his locket to check on his own weapons, not meeting her heavy gaze.

Alicia smacked her lips loudly, “You need to cut the Winter Soldier out of your hair again.”

Bucky stilled, stunned into silence for a few heartbeats.

“I mean—“ Alicia blurted out. “Your hair— it’s getting longer!”

And there she was.

How could he become a better listener if she was always spitting nonsense at the most random times?

“You need to focus on our mission,” Bucky sighed, his already low patience level dropping drastically in a matter of seconds. “And my hair is completely fine.” ‎

“Alright,” she mumbled, resuming her task and clicking in place the barrel of her most trusted handgun. Then, in a venomous whisper to herself: “Not my fault you’re starting to look like Elvis.”

“Do you always just blurt out every thought that pops into your head?” Bucky asked, “or do you do it purely just to piss me off?”

He knew his mistake the second the corner of her pouty lips turned upwards into a shit eating grin. His heart thumped against his chest reminding him that maybe Sam wasn’t completely wrong.

“I’m not responsible for your feelings Sergeant Barnes.” She quipped, going back to checking her weapons. “I was just simply informing you that your hair makes you look like you’re about to break out in song while you gyrate across the ship's platform and while I would pay good money, really good money to watch you impersonate Elvis, we don’t have time for that.” Alicia’s bright blue eyes found his with that smirk he so badly wanted to wipe off her face.

“You’re pushing it Ace.” He said slamming his locker shut. Heat flickered in her eyes at the nickname, the jab a perfect hit. His own smirk crawled over his features as he sat down at the head of the quinjet. “Quit daydreaming and make yourself familiar with the layout of the warehouse.”

“I’m already familiar—“

“Do it again.” Bucky barked, keeping his eyes forward on the clouds. A huff sounded from behind him with a muttered “yes sir,” before her footsteps disappeared away from him. He swallowed hard, guilt and frustration making an angry mess in his chest but this wasn’t a game to him. It never had been and taking precautions was important. If she didn’t understand that then he would make her.

"Twenty minutes 'till arrival," the Quinjet informed Bucky, so he took a deep breath and went once more over his own equipment, securing multiple guns and knives on his tactical suit.

Alicia returned with a large blueprint in her hands, slamming it on the table in the middle of the lockers with a loud thud.

Bucky turned, seeing her studying the paper in front of her with concentration.

"Let's go over the mission one more time."

"But I'm just coming out of the briefing..."

"I know, but as you've probably realized, I was busy getting the jet ready for our departure, so I wasn't at the briefing."

"Right. I'd never miss the grumpy vibes radiating from you," Alicia mumbled under her breath. A normal man wouldn't have heard it, but Bucky's super soldier senses allowed him to hear more than he'd liked to. He clenched his teeth in disapproval, but decided to ignore her.

"The documents are secured in an old wood factory, located in the middle of the forest underneath us. The factory has been abandoned for a few years now, but it's not our target anyway. Scans showed that there is an extended tunnel system under the area, reaching from the factory all the way to another house that was supposed to be the forester's home," Bucky started.

"We're entering the tunnels through one of the ventilation shafts that end right next to the main building of the factory. Redwing's scans this morning showed that there are only a few men guarding the factory, so we should be easily able to reach and enter the shaft without distraction." Alicia pointed her finger on the X on the map that signaled the entrance point through the shaft, showing off her burgundy painted fingernails.

"Never call a mission easy. You'll jinx it," Bucky growled.

"Wouldn't have seen you as the superstitious guy, Sergeant Barnes," she commented with a smirk.

"I'm not superstitious, just very fond of my life."

"Suuuuure," Alicia mumbled under her breath.

Bucky patted himself down, one last check that his favorite knife was in his most accessible holster, and eyed Alicia’s tactical suit too.

“Move your glock, Ace—”

“That’s what she said.”

Bucky blinked slowly, flicking his tongue up to his top lip as a beat of silence passed between them before he continued, nonplussed.

“That gun is your strength and you’ll never reach it quick enough if it’s holstered on your less dominant side.”

Surprisingly, Alicia did as she was told and Bucky thanked the high heavens for at least one win today. His gaze flicking to her slicked back ponytail — not a hair out of place — and her suddenly serious expression as he gave her a nod.

“Lead the way, Sarge.” Then she beamed, big and bright, and Bucky groaned, swiping his metal hand over his face.

The forest wasn’t very thick, with large gaps between the trees. Bucky wasn’t sure if it would help or hinder them but the broad branches of the canopy were enough to disguise the quinjet in the clearing they touched down in.

They stood side by side at the ramp, eyes alert for any threat but there were none and the two Avengers made their way out of the clearing and into the forest in the direction of their factory target.

Quietly, the Quinjet closed back up behind them. He took a deep breath, listening, watching, trying to gauge just how close the guards were. "Should be through this area of forest," he said quietly, pointing straight in front of him.

The two Avengers tracked silently through the forest, only stopping to check their bearings and to listen for signs of life. Redwing had shown that there were few patrols in this area, which is why they'd chosen that particular landing site.

Bucky had to admit that, when her mouth was shut and she was focussed on the mission, the girl could potentially make a half decent agent. She was light on her feet and her eyes were constantly monitoring the terrain whilst still.being watchful for danger and able to clock his position. He spotted movement ahead and was impressed that when he turned to signal their stop, she was already signaling the alert back, nodding her agreement.

Alicia’s dominant hand reached for her holster, hovering over it as she made a first step sideways to cover Bucky’s side. She clenched her jaw, her focus unwavering.

His gaze lingered there, following the motion of her throat as she swallowed.

Funny how a single, innocent action could derail the train of thought of even the best soldier on the field.

In a matter of seconds, a sliver of light passed right by him. The air thickened as his senses fired up with danger signals.

In front of him a guard fell on the soft layer of leaves with a deaf thud, an all too familiar blade handle standing straight from his chest.

“Did you just throw my knife at him?” Bucky asked, almost giving himself whiplash from turning in Alicia’s direction.

“You just dropped something, Sarge,” She blinked up at him. “Your jaw.”

"Don't touch my knife." He grumbled pressing his foot to the guard's chest and pulling it out in one swift motion. He wiped the blood on his pant leg before putting it back into his holster. "Did you bring any of your own?" Bucky glanced up at her watching as her eyes scanned the treeline around them.

"Your's was closer." She muttered her blue gaze flicking down to his before she readjusted her grip on her gun and pushed forward. Bucky stood there, staring at her with a thousand thoughts running through his mind. It was impressive, her speed and aim. He had seen her in the training room, plenty of times throwing daggers at foam forms but never quite like that. "You coming?" She asked, cutting through his thoughts.

He narrowed his eyes at her and nodded.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the factory. The building looked decrepit, surrounded by rubble and rotting wood.

“This looks safe,” Alicia muttered, shuddering as a large bird landed on the roof and more brick and stone fell to the ground by the rusted iron doors.

“We’ll be fine. Stay alert, watch my six. We make it to the vent, that’s half the job done.”

“See, how can I not say it’s an easy op when you make it sound like a piece of cake?”

Bucky glanced at her over his shoulder, two seconds away from an eye roll as he brought his fingers to his lips and mimed zipping them shut.

“Shut up, Alicia. Got it, Sarge.”

Bucky couldn’t contain the eye roll that time, choosing to ignore anything that came out of Alicia’s mouth that wasn’t mission imperative. He raised a hand, pointing two sharp fingers towards the entrance and made a mental note to knock Sam upside the head.

On the lightest of steps, both Bucky and Alicia crept silently to it and swiftly pulled it open, careful not to make a sound to alert any guards. With a confirming nod, Bucky went it first and then felt as Alicia went in after him.

He sent a silent prayer nothing would give out from underneath their weights as a low creak sounded.

Thankfully it was a short distance and they reached the end of it without trouble, checked their surroundings and headed for the hidden lab.

“This is it,” Alicia muttered, approaching an unmarked and nondescript door.

She stood to the side, her hand on the door handle and then nodded to Bucky, awaiting his confirmation that he was ready. One brusque nod in return and they were entering and sweeping the room with a syncopation that belied the short amount of time they’d actually worked together.

Bucky stared at her, rifling through paperwork, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth in concentration. Maybe he’d been too hard on her, maybe she deserved…

“You ok there, Sarge?” She asked, shaking him from his reverie. “You look a little dazed. You didn’t touch any of the bottles did you? Didn’t breathe in any powder or gas? ‘Cause I’ve read things and as much as we’re teammates there ain’t no way I’d assist you in-”

“Can it, Ace, just keep looking,” he grumbled, his brows drawn into a frown.

Bucky watched as she rolled her eyes and continued her search. He turned and looked out of the door, looking side to side, making sure they weren't followed. He could hear every step, every shuffle of paper, every drawer and folder she opened. "Any luck?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, turning towards him. "And the intel was definite that the formula was still here?" She asked.

"You know as much as I do," he retorted, "you being in the briefing and all." He blew out a frustrated breath, turning away from her his eyes focussed on the bench at the far corner of the room. The drawers were all closed, with individual keyholes in each.

"Over here," Bucky suggested, covering the distance in a few strides.

Her footsteps behind him were careful, calculated and he counted each one until he knelt in front of the bench. Warm vanilla and lavender flooded his senses as she squatted next to him, running her fingers over each key hole. "Think you can get this open?" He asked, his voice strained as he tried to not let her sweet smell overwhelm him.

"Maybe," She said with furrowed brows as she glanced closer. "You think they're in here?"

"It's the only one locked." He said plainly.

"It could also be a decoy." Alicia frowned, pulling out a small tool kit. "Use those ears of yours and listen for more guards while I do this."

Bucky scowled, "you ain't the boss here Ace."

"And you don't have the lock picking skill I do." She quipped back scooting closer to the drawers. "Have my back for once."

Bucky grumbled but took watch, glancing back at Alicia every few seconds. She hummed under her breath as she worked and he tried to drown it out, focusing his ears on the faint sounds beyond the door, picking out noise in the wind and footsteps too far away to worry about yet.

“How’s it looking?”

“My pick keeps jamming, but I can feel it loosening. Just give me a moment,” Alicia replied, “I’ve got this, Sarge.”

“I know you do, Ace,” Bucky mumbled, pacing towards the door on light feet.

“So you do trust me to do my job?”

“Never said I didn’t. I just—” he was cut off when something clicked loudly and the sound of metal sliding on metal had him spinning on his heel.

“Ah-ha! I’m in!”

"Careful!" The order came out quickly from Bucky, startling her as he rushed to her before she could touch anything.

Alicia's hands were raised away from the drawer, apprehensive as he approached her and braced himself to open it.

"It could be booby trapped," Bucky felt the need to explain. Even if he knew that she understood without saying the dangers possibly lurking everywhere.

"Step back, let me handle it." He ordered firmly.

With a raised brow, Alicia stood back on her feet and gestured to the drawer in a sweeping motion.

"I don't think it's fair that you'd take a possible hit but.. all yours Sarge."

“Nice,” he nodded, a small smile gracing his features. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

Bucky watched as Alicia rolled the paperwork and stowed it inside the zip of her combat gear.

"What?" She asked, feeling a scorning judgment brewing behind his hooded gaze. "This way I've got both hands free in case we need to fight our way out."

"Well we may well need to do that. Come on, shift gears," cocking his head towards the door back to the tunnels. Checking the coast was clear before stepping out, Bucky took the lead, heading back in the direction they had entered the facility. Alicia followed close behind, watching to ensure there were no surprises from the rear.

"Oi!" Two men rounded the back corner of the building, stopping both Bucky and Alicia in their tracks.

Alicia spun around, flashing a smile he had never seen before but sent a burst of butterflies through his stomach. "Hey boys!" She grinned, "Interesting place you've got here. Any renovations planned?"

The two men shared a confused look before looking back at her. "Why don't you unzip that suit and show us what you have underneath it."

A low snarl from his left almost made him turn to look at her but before he could even stop it, she took a step forward.

"I tried being nice." She said before going straight for the one who made the comment. Bucky let out a sigh as the other man made eye contact with him and grinned before charging at him.

"Son of a bitch." He whispered as fists started flying.

The fight was quick but messy. Bucky ended up with more blood on him than he would have liked, caught off guard just once when his eyes were on Alicia, holding her own but visibly tiring as she took on the other man.

It ended with two unconscious goons dumped in the woods and the two Avengers making a run for the quinjet, a little bruised and battered but with the papers still secure in Alicia's pocket.

"You did good back there, Ace," Bucky murmured as he fired up the jet. He set the nav system to autopilot before joining her in the rear, plopping down beside her with a heaving sigh. "Any injuries that can't wait?"

With a shake of her head, Alicia pulled the documents out and handed them over.

"All good, Sarge. You'll need these for your report later, right?"

"Oh, uh. Yeah. Thanks, agent."

"I'm gonna take the bunk, wake me when we're back?" Alicia murmured and all Bucky could do was nod before leaving her to it, making his way back up front and knocking one of the books he kept hidden for long journeys down from the locker above the control panel.

A four-note whistle dragged Bucky abruptly from his book and he cursed under his breath at Alicia, who stretched languidly after her nap and joined him in the co-pilot seat.

“What the hell was that?” He grumbled, more in embarrassment at being so distracted as to not hear her moving around in the back.

She repeated the whistled tune and Bucky’s gaze homed in on her pursed lips and the teasing glint in her eye.

“You keep doin’ that but I still don’t know what-“

“It’s from the movie, dumbass. Sorry, I mean Sarge” she chuckled, crossing her legs up on the control panel and gesturing to his copy of The Hunger Games.

“They made a movie of it?” He asked, his eyebrows raising in pleasant surprise before he caught himself and scowled once more. “I like books better.”

“Course you do,” Alicia sighed. “Old man.”

Bucky shot her another ornery glare and grunted as the autopilot signaled their approach and began to facilitate landing. He barely managed to ignore the way she ran through the co-pilot checks in synchronicity with him, as if they’d always worked so closely.

As soon as they docked Bucky was up, out of his seat, and stalking down the ramp as if the hounds of hell were after him.

“Thanks, Sarge, good mission, great company,” Alicia called after him, with a barely audible “asshole” added at the end but, thanks to the damned serum, he heard it anyway.

Bucky sighed as he made his way to the locker room nearby before he stripped down, wanting to take a shower. He ran his hands over his face as he stood beneath the hot spray. Why couldn’t I fucking focus today?

It didn’t take him long to shower and get dressed but by the time he did the halls were dark and the tower was quiet aside from the sounds of Parker and Bishop arguing over some video game. They tried to teach it to him and it lasted about ten minutes before he almost threw the controller into the wall and stalked off. He made his way down to his quarters tossing his clothes into his room before heading into the small kitchen shared with the other rooms on this wing.

Flickers of red hair and blue eyes filled his mind, sending feelings swarming in his chest that he wasn't familiar with. Ones he didn't know how to deal with. She was a pain in his ass, tenfold but she could also fight and held her own against his unruly attitude.

Bucky reached for the bottle of whiskey on the top shelf of one of the cabinets and poured himself a glass.

Parking himself at the marble-top kitchen island with his drink and a bag of chips, Bucky laid the papers they recovered out in front of him. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon, never has done after a mission, even one so simple. His mind often reeled, flashbacks and what ifs and all the fears that he still harbored. They were training young people to fight, to put themselves in danger and he couldn't help but feel responsible for them.

Settling in for the night, he looked over the documents, making notes for his report and draining one then two glasses of whiskey. It wasn't until he heard footsteps, soft and sleepy, padding into the kitchen that he realized he'd let himself zone out, get lost in his work.

Alicia rounded the island and made a beeline for a clean glass on the draining board. Bucky glanced up, noting her rumpled pajamas and ponytail, now loose and slept in, and silently pushed the bottle of whiskey towards her.

“Thanks,” she murmured, her voice rough from lack of sleep.

He huffed an acknowledgement and went back to staring at the paperwork, mindlessly swirling the amber liquid in his own glass.

A stool scraped across the floor and Alicia pulled herself up next to him, her head tilted as she perused the documents. He could smell her shampoo. The scent was…familiar, comforting, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He found himself leaning closer to her and managed to pull back before he ended up with his nose buried in her scarlet ponytail.

“You should be asleep.” He muttered, glancing back down at the paperwork in front of him. The irony of that statement was he should be too. But lately the nights were long and a sick game of roulette on whether or not he’d get a peaceful sleep or be haunted by the nightmares of his past.

Alicia tufts softly and leans back against the stool. “And let you have all the fun?” She said with the corner of her mouth turned upward as she reached for another small stack of paperwork. “Don’t think so, Sarge.”

His eyes trailed to her profile. Button nose, pouty lips and eyes that even in the dark still seemed to shine a bright blue. “Can’t sleep, Ace?”

It was small and quick but he caught how her body tensed for a brief moment at his question. It was the first inclination he’s had outside of her smart mouth. “Still wired from the mission I guess.” She said softly trying to recover that brief moment of silence after a question like that and not knowing how to answer.

He was all too familiar with that.

"Wish I could tell you that feeling goes away," Bucky replied, taking a sip of his drink, "but you're lookin' at a man who'd rather bore himself with a mission report than close his eyes so I guess that tells you everythin' you need to know."

With her chin planted in the palm of her hand as she leant forward on the island, Alicia leveled him with a heavy stare before she bumped him softly on the shoulder.

"You want to play a game?" She asked quietly, not what Bucky was expecting. "Twenty questions or something?"

"Can't say I do, Ace."

"Ah, come on. It'll be more interesting than reading those for what, the twentieth time?"

"Fifteenth," Bucky murmured and Alicia cocked her head, pretty eyes knowing and convincing as hell.

He tried to ignore her stare and his jaw ticked as his face heated. A second passed, and another.

“Fine,” he huffed, shuffling around on his stool and taking a fortifying swig of liquor. “But I’m going first.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Sarge. Fire away.”

Bucky hummed and took the opportunity to appraise her without having to pretend he wasn’t.

“Cute pyjamas,” he grunted. “They your favorite color?”

“No, it’s blue. Why do you drink if it doesn’t affect you?” She retorted, firing straight back with a question of her own.

Bucky grinned at the quickness of her question. "Reminds me of the old days and I like the taste."

"No one likes the taste." She quipped.

He chuckled, "you've had shit whiskey then. Favorite drink?"

"Tequila."

"Tequila? Like mixed with some--" His brows raised when she shook her head cutting off his question.

"Good old fashioned salt and lime." She smiled widely. "Does that surprise you?"

Bucky thought about it for a moment and shook his head. "No. You're quite the spitfire, it's actually...quite the match." He chuckled.

"Thank you," Alicia grinned, "when did you lose your virginity?"

Bucky blinked but rolled with it, "not pulling any punches, huh? 1933, Lucy Hargreaves. She was two years older and her Ma hated me."

"Ooh, why?" Alicia shifted in her seat, big eyes earnest and her lips curved in interest.

"Nice try, Ace, it's my turn," Bucky chuckled, reaching for a handful of chips and pushing the bag in her direction. He munched happily as he thought of another question, surprised by the way the load of tension in his shoulders was lightening and his whole body was turned towards Alicia now, open and comfortable.

“Tick tock, Sarge,” she teased, popping a chip into her mouth and firing a wink in his direction.

“Alright, alright. Why don’t you date?” He asked.

“I date,” Alicia protested, stiffening in her seat, her smile growing tight.

“Nah, you don’t. Or if you do it was before you moved in here. I ain’t seen you go out and there sure as hell ain’t been no-one havin’ a sleepover with you.”

“You keeping tabs on me, Barnes?” She grated awkwardly. “I didn’t realize you cared enough to notice.”

“I don’t, I mean, I do…I mean, not like that, I-“ Bucky blustered himself into a corner.

"Easy there," She said, grabbing his bicep. "Don't force yourself into a reboot."

Bucky took a deep breath and glanced over at her his own body tense under the weight of her touch. "I'm not a robot." He frowned which only made the soft smile on her features grow.

"Tell that to Wilson." she laughed and pulled her hand away and his heart fell with the loss of contact. "Who's turn is it?"

"Yours, and I feel like I'm gonna need more whiskey for this," Bucky muttered, topping up both of their glasses.

"Why don't you date?" Alicia asked and it sounded as sincere as it did in retaliation to his own question. He should have expected that really. Bucky screwed his face up and gulped back his drink, wishing it would affect him for once.

"I just don't," he replied, "next question."

"Woah, no. I'm not letting you get away with that one, Sarge," Alicia said quickly. "Give me one honest reason why you don't, just one?"

"You've met me," Bucky shrugged, a poor excuse for an answer and clearly not the one Alicia was expecting as her face fell.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He saw her face contort into a mixture between contained anger and utter despair as she voiced her question, her voice going an octave louder in the silence.

She didn't wait for him to form a response to her question, not that he had much to say. He knew how people looked at him.

"Sarge! You may be a pain in my ass and also excel in riding my ass in training but," there was quiet determination in her eyes that had the chuckle that threatened to slip from him die down.

"You're kind, and smart, and you care about us. Your team.. your family."

Bucky tried to swallow down but it felt like his throat closed up. He didn't dare look her in the eyes even as her icy pools swept over his face.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you," she shrugged. Alicia's voice was much softer now as a tinge of red spread across her face and she turned away from him, picking up her drink.

"Anyone who makes you think otherwise is a fool." She ended quietly while avoiding his eyes and took a large gulp of the amber liquid.

“You been keepin’ tabs on me, Ace?” He managed to croak, ending on a chuckle that sounded forced even to him.

Alicia huffed a little and picked at the rim of her glass with one finger.

“I used to hate that nickname you know,” she muttered. “Always felt like you were putting me down, belittling me, like I wasn’t good enough for the famous Avengers.” Bucky opened his mouth to apologize but she waved her hand to cut him off. “I said I used to. Don’t mind it so much anymore.”

“Why?” Bucky asked, conscious of the tension that was building; like the air before a thunderstorm.

“‘Cause you’re the only one that uses it,” she admitted, looking across at him, a flush creeping across her cheeks.

"Everyone needs a nickname." He muttered feeling those butterflies swarm in his belly again. Her eyes flickered up to his and it was like a bolt of lightning struck him.

"You don't have nicknames for the others." She said quietly with a hint of hopefulness that sent his heart into a frenzy. He did, but they weren't nice and mainly consisted of picking on Parker. "You also don't ride the others as hard as you do me in training."

"What are you gettin' at Ace?" He asked softly, picking at the label on the whiskey bottle trying to avoid looking at her because if he did again, if he found those ice blue eyes he was going to be a goner and she was one thing he wasn't going to allow himself to ruin.

Alicia let out a breath. "I just think maybe you don't dislike me as much as you put off."

Bucky huffed out a soft chuckle, half hating that she’d put the words out there and half pleased he didn’t have to say them himself.

“You’re—” he paused and dared to glance up, forcing himself to look ahead at the kitchen cabinets but even seeing her blurred in his peripherals was almost too much.

“I’m what, Sarge?”

“You’re somethin’ else, Ace.”

The laugh that left her lips was surprised, melodic and a hint of delight danced across her features as Bucky felt that sound hit somewhere deep in his chest. A cascade of feelings he didn't want to put a name to yet filled him.

His hand twitched to rub at his chest where his heart was but he forced himself to only grip the glass in his hand, if a little tighter than before.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Sarge." She said after her laugh had gently faded. A quick wink following.

“You should,” he said, tossing back the last gulp of whiskey and pouring himself another helping.

“I’ll take another, too.”

“Compliment, or whiskey?” He asked, making the mistake of actually looking directly at her.

“Both?” She grinned, sliding her glass towards him. “Although if you carry on with the compliments I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

Bucky froze. It was only for a split second but he knew Alicia had noticed. Cursing himself he tried to downplay his reaction but it was no use.

“Sarge?” She asked quietly, warily, almost…hopefully?

He didn’t respond and when she reached to retrieve her whiskey she stilled him by wrapping her fingers around his on the glass.

“Bucky?”

Bucky's entire body tensed at the feeling of her warm soft skin.

"Bucky." She said again and this time he cleared his throat with a nod but his gaze remained on their hands. Her fingers loosened their grip on his hand but lingered there for a moment before they trailed up his wrist.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice low and raspy as he tried to calm his racing heart.

"Is that one of your questions?" She asked just as softly.

Bucky's gaze finally found hers and he nodded.

"I'm testing something." Alicia whispered.

His brows furrowed in confusion as her hand crawled slowly up his arm until it stopped just below his elbow. "When was the last time you kissed someone?" She asked softly.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Bucky murmured, unsure if he liked the new way his heart was thrumming hard and fast against his rib cage. It wasn’t the scared thundering he was used to, no overwhelming roar in his ears this time.

His breath hitched as Alicia’s hand traveled further, up to his bicep where her fingertips pressed lightly into the muscle. Bucky glanced down and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from how she was holding onto him, warm and gentle and foreign to him now.

“What would you do if I were to kiss you now?”

“Alicia.” If he meant it to be a warning, it didn’t come out that way. Her name sounded soft on his lips, a breath of syllables rolling off his tongue in a way he rather liked.

"Tell me," her voice was breathy, soft even though her breathing was starting to turn a little shallow in front of him.

He couldn't help it, couldn't control the way his hand let go of the glass it held and inched its way closer to her while the other clenched and whirred under the strain of his nerves. Both their eyes tracked the movement before locking on each other's faces.

Alicia's face was flushed under his gaze, inching slightly closer to him with every breath she took.

"I think..." he hesitated. "I would kiss you back."

The confession hung heavy in the air they shared, Bucky's eyes tracing her face as he dared to touch her back and placed his hand on the curve of her hip and felt her breath hitch.

Alicia was so delicate underneath his careful touch.

"Can I kiss you, Bucky?"

His tongue darted out to dampen his bottom lip and he drew in a shaky breath. “Y-yeah.”

Her hand on his bicep moved again sliding gently upward to curl around the back of his neck, her thumb stroking tenderly along the curve of his jaw. His pulse thrummed beneath her fingers, which tightened with the smallest amount of pressure to draw him forwards.

“You’re gonna have to meet me halfway, big guy,” she whispered, her mouth curving into a smile as she leaned towards him.

He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself even if he’d wanted to, bending his head down to her, and then her lips were pressed against his so delicately that he almost didn’t believe it was happening. He felt the slight tremble in her kiss, as if her heart were beating as fast as his. If he concentrated he could actually hear it, pounding out a desperate rhythm.

Knowing that she was just as nervous or anxious as he was made him feel less like a hundred year old who couldn’t remember the last time he kissed someone and more like a man desperate for touch.

He slid his arm around her waist turning fully into her and took her top lip between his deepening the kiss until by sheer instinct he pulled her closer.

Alicia whimpered slightly as his arm wrapped around her and it forced him to break the kiss, wide eyes and terrified that he had done something to hurt her. “Why did you stop?” She breathed, her breath warm against his.

“Did I hurt you?” He said the words tight and strained.

The warmest smile spread over her face as she shook her head. “No, but I can take it.” She whispered.

This made him chuckle and nod softly as he dipped his head once more. “Okay tough guy.” He rasped before slotting his lips over hers once again.

As they kissed, Alicia toyed with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, longer than usual just like she'd pointed out earlier, but the fizz of warmth it sent through him as she twirled the strands around her fingers made him reluctant to even think about cutting it now.

Alicia sighed, her lips parting further and presenting Bucky with the chance to lick into her mouth, taste the whiskey and chips on her tongue. He groaned into it, his fingers dancing over her sides until he had a tight but gentle grasp on her waist.

"Hold on, Ace," he murmured into her mouth, giving her the barest warning before he hauled her out of her stool and onto his lap. The gleeful yelp that escaped her pulled out a laugh, loud and full as his nose scrunched in delight. And then he dove straight back in, too deep now to stop kissing her for even a second.

Little moans escaped her mouth and right into his as Bucky's hunger grew with each swipe of tongue against one another. His skin felt on fire as heated blood rushed through his veins.

It was too much and not enough all at once, his hands roved over every inch he could reach and reveled in the way her back arched into him. Her arms wound around his neck to pull herself closer to him.

Bucky pulled back from her mouth only to trail his lips and tongue down her jaw, letting her breathe while he nipped and kissed his way to a spot below her ear that had her gasping the air right back out.

"Oh god.."

Both his hands tightened on Alicia's hips at the sultry sound. It echoed in his ears again as he repeated the motion.

“Mmm…” Bucky nipped and licked down her neck before sucking gently on her pulse. When he pulled back he grinned, seeing her eyes blown wide with lust and arousal. “Wow…”

He let his gaze drop, taking in her little pyjamas properly now she was so close. His eyes fell to her vest top first, so thin he could see the way her nipples pebbled beneath the fabric, and then the little slither of her belly, pale and soft in the dim light of the kitchen.

Bucky swallowed thickly, shivered as Alicia trailed her own hands down his chest until they settled between them, where her legs straddled him, all tiny plaid shorts and bare flesh against the rough denim of his jeans. When he finally dragged his eyes back up to meet hers, still dark, still full of wanting, Alicia fluttered her long eyelashes and flashed him a cheeky little smirk.

"Mind if I move, Sarge?" She whispered and Bucky groaned. His grip on her tightening as he gave her a short nod of affirmation, sucking in a breath at the sudden and torturously slow grind of her hips.

“God,” Bucky gritted out, his hand sliding up to palm her breast through her top, his thumb stroking over her pebbled nipple.

A low moan slipped past her lips and he caught it with his own, teasing into her mouth with his tongue. It was Alicia who tugged down the front of her own top and suddenly there was the tender heat of her bare flesh beneath his palm, a counterpoint to the friction of her core grinding against the straining tent in his jeans.

He shifted on the stool, barely managing to contain the urge to rut against her and desperately trying to control the strength of his grip on her waist as he held her close.

Heat licked at his belly as he nipped at her bottom lip, earning himself another moan dripping from her plump kiss bitten lips. Bucky slid his free hand up her back, tangling it in her hair as she rolled her hips again. It was driving him crazy. She was driving him crazy. Every tiny movement, every sigh, every whimper it all sent a thrill straight to his cock.

His palm squeezed gently around her breast, molding it to his hand as her head fell back, a soft moan escaping her before she lifted her head with a soft grin. Her lips formed into a smirk before she rocked harder once and dipped her head to nip along his jawline.

"Fuck, Alicia-- sweetheart," Bucky choked out, his own head lolling to the side to give her better access to his skin. He could feel her mouthing hotly at his neck, forming a bruise that wouldn't be there come morning; a real shame if you asked him.

His hands skimmed her body, trying to touch every inch of her, feel her strength and her softness under his fingertips. Every gorgeous bit of her that had him writhing in his seat, trying so hard to keep it together.

"You can let go, you know. If it feels good," she whispered and Bucky stuttered out a groan and a series of soft grunts as he helped her hips keep up a steady pace that drove them both someplace higher, teetering on the edge of pleasure.

Her teeth nipped at his ear with hot breath and whispered, "keep going."

All of it was enough to push him over the edge, soaking the inside of his boxers and jeans. He desperately needed her to come too and it wasn't far behind him that her body softly shuddered in his arms. A series of soft praises flew from her mouth as she pressed her lips into his neck sending a chill down his spine. There were a few moments of silence that settled between them. The sounds of their breathing filled the kitchen area.

"One more question?" He said softly wrapping his arms around her as she melted into his chest.

"What's that?" She said softly.

"Will you...I mean would you like to maybe go out sometime?" He said softly as she lifted her head.

Alicia smiled warmly and nodded. "I'd like that."

A throat cleared behind them. Bucky's eyes darted to the door seeing Sam standing in the doorway with a shit eating grin. Embarrassment flooded him and his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as Alicia fixed her top and slowly slid off of his lap. "I'll leave you two to it." She grinned and disappeared down the hallway.

Bucky leaned forward against the counter, adjusting his jeans underneath it.

"Pain in your ass huh?" Sam smirked, reaching for the whiskey.

"Shut up Sam." Bucky groaned and slid out from the counter and shoved past him down towards his quarters leaving Sam chuckling in the kitchen. The moment he was alone, he slipped out of his pants and boxers, finding new ones and crawled into bed. Red hair, blue eyes and perfectly pouty lips flooding his thoughts as his eyes grew heavy and he dreamed of the girl two doors down.

#one shot #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvelous #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes one shot #fluff #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #marvel au

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thesugarclubs-blog · 17 days

Text

Put A Little Love on Me - Sam Wilson x OC

warnings: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, air force friends, soft smut, 18+

word count: 8.4k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1437355323-put-a-little-love-on-me-lane

vibe: "That's not fair, Sam," she whispered, hugging her arms around her middle, her fingers gripping into the fabric of her dress.

Sam shook his head and stepped closer to her, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "No it's not, but it's all I had. We promised we'd always have each other no matter what happened. After everything you helped me through when Riley -" his words cut off and her let out a breath, keeping his dark eyes on hers, "I just wanted to be able to help you the way you helped me," he finished

Masterlist

A few raps sounded at his bedroom door as he changed his tie once more.

“Mr. Wilson, sir?” Sam smiled at Peter’s voice coming from the other side. “I don’t mean to rush you but Barnes-”

“Completely means to!”

Bucky’s exasperated voice boomed through the first floor of the compound interrupting him causing Sam to snort out a laugh as he tightened his tie and looked over himself quickly in the mirror. The soft pink tie he had finally landed on looked great against the crisp navy suit he had chosen for tonight.

They had been invited to a spring gala in honor of the Armed Forces tonight and they’d asked him, as Captain America and former Air Force, to say a few words.

“Looking good Wilson, looking good.” He winked at himself before pocketing his phone and wallet to head out the door.

Sam made his way over to where Bucky was sitting alongside Peter in the common room, looking like he was going to burst into flames as the youngest showed him something on his phone excitedly.

“Don’t scare him off Parker, he might bail on us.”

His partner rolled his eyes and cleared his throat before standing and running a hand through his hair.

Sam whistled, “You know for a person who didn’t wanna go you clean up real nice Buckaroo.”

“Don’t push your luck Sam,” he replied pointedly.

“But where’s the fun in that?” Sam grinned as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Are you guys coming?” He asked innocently, just catching the way Bucky glowered, unimpressed, as he followed with a heavy trudge.

The car waited outside, tinted windows and a security detail that felt entirely unnecessary and did little to ease Sam’s nerves. It’s not that he hated public speaking, it was a given now, but the cause for tonight was important. It sat close to his heart, in both pride and heartbreak, and he just hoped the small speech he had prepared did it justice.

As the cavalcade approached the Plaza, Bucky looked through the tinted glass and whistled. "Very fancy Sammy boy." The car pulled up in front of the huge double doors, the red carpet lined with press and reporters. "And they're all here for you." As the door opened Bucky held his arm out, "After you, I insist," he smirked to Sam, "Me and the boy will just hang here until the heat dies down."

"So much for moral support, " Sam complained, over his shoulder as he stepped out of the car. The camera flashes and the cacophony of voices that greeted him confirmed that Bucky had the right idea.

He took a breath and transformed his face into the friendly, all-American grin that he knew the public loved and stepped forward. He held his arms out slightly, as if he were about to give the crowd a hug, and then waved. Here, there, up to the right, wherever he heard his name called as he slowly but resolutely made his way towards the doors of the building.

His right hand went to the watch on his left wrist and he surreptitiously fingered the tiny control panel. Gasps of delight came from the crowd as Redwing swooped down and performed some aerial acrobatics, guiding Sam the rest of the way to the doors through a chorus of cheers and applause.

Once inside, he took a moment to steel himself with a breath as everyone in attendance bustled around the room; taking pictures, grabbing glasses of champagne from trays. He took his phone out quickly typing out a text to Bucky and Peter letting them know he’d find their table. As soon as Bucky responded, he pocketed his phone and made sure his speech paper was still safely tucked inside his jacket pocket before making his way through the crowd of attendees.

He scanned the room until he found the seating chart by the bar — open, he hoped — and found their names under table number one, right front and centre.

The table was still empty when he arrived, eight exquisitely laid places and a beautifully crafted centrepiece. Sam wandered around the table, searching out his name and slid into his seat, just taking a moment of calm before he would inevitably be thrown into the fray.

Bucky and Peter’s voices mingled with the music as they bustled over behind him.

“I was waiting for a text so we could sneak in, Wilson. Do you know how many hands I had to shake tryin’ to find you?” Bucky grumbled, slumping into the chair beside him.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips, "Poor little super soldier, having to mingle and get appreciated"

The small stifled laugh from Peter caused a chuckle to bubble from his lips as Bucky rolled his eyes. Sam knew the spotlight was something Bucky was still getting used to and for the most part he always supported his friend's decision to hide in the shadows but with their recent successes and their new team growing, he'd have to accept the supportive attention, even if it was just for one night.

"To be fair Bucky, you were the one who insisted every man for himself," Peter started to explain, before seeing the look Bucky was sending him and pulling himself short. "I know, shut up kid, " he finished, pushing his chair backwards, he stood and suggested, "should I to go see if they have any Asgardian Mead?"

"Good idea, kid," Bucky replied, "I've a feeling I'm going to need it."

"You need to go easy tonight Buck," Sam advised.

"I know how to behave in polite society," Bucky shook his head at Sam, "I was brought up by a lady and know how to treat the dames."

“Rule number one,” Sam countered, “don’t call ‘em dames. They don’t like that anymore.”

“Aw, shucks! That’s why I can’t get a date.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the rest of the room. It was probably time to get this show on the road, be the man of the people and shake some hands.

“I’m gonna go mingle, hold down the fort and don’t let Parker drink.” He pointed a finger at Bucky as he stood. Brushing his hands down his suit, he took a deep breath and headed towards Rhodey, the first face he’d recognised since he walked in.

Clapping his friend on the back, Sam grinned his signature grin and extended his hand to the two council members that Rhodey was talking too, "Gentleman, I hope my friend here isn't boring you with his tank story, again,"

"That story is a classic and always kills," Rhodey defended as the men with him laughed, shaking their heads.

"Only to people who haven't heard it ten times," one of them retorted with a booming laugh.

Sam nudged his shoulder into his friends with a smirk as the conversation moved on to the recent PR that was needed for their growing team and how it was going to be handled. They wanted Kate and Yelena to make appearance's at schools and Peter needed to do tech presentations, stepping into the shoes that Tony had left for him. But something caught Sam's attention, and the councilman's words drifted out to a dull whisper.

A girl with soft brunette waves stood by the bar in a navy blue satin gown, her deep chocolate brown eyes trained on his with a soft smile playing on her lips as she took a sip from her wine glass. Sam's chest squeezed as his mind jolted to the last time he'd laid eyes on the girl in front of him. The soft goodbye she'd whispered into his ear, and the press of her lips to his cheek before she'd walked out for her last mission. The day she'd walked out the door, taking his heart with her.

"Yeah, yeah that sounds good, we'll talk about it Monday," Sam mumbled, squeezing Rhodey's shoulder, "Will you excuse me?" He didn't wait for an answer before he walked away, his tunnel vision setting in as the rest of the room faded.

His heart rate picked up with each step he took towards her. Sam slowed to a stop in front of her, those eyes he'd fallen into time and time again trail up and down the navy suit he wore. "Lanie?" Sam breathed out her name like an unanswered prayer and her smile only grew.

"I'm a little disappointed you didn't wear the wings." She quipped, taking a sip of her drink.

He was too busy admiring just how much more beautiful she had gotten since the last time he saw her for her words to register and when they did he couldn't help but chuckle. "Shoot, I left them in the car."

Lane laughed and the sound hit deep in his core. The feelings he had bottled up and tucked away started to bubble in his chest as her laughter slowed and it was just the two of them.

"You look good, Sam," Lane said softly.

"This old thing," he gulped, trying to get his racing heart under control.

Lane had always had this effect on him, even before the feeling was mutual. Just a look from her in his direction or a parting of her lips sent his pulse through the roof. Lane had been so weary of the guys in their squadron, conscious that they were a bunch of entitled A-holes, who made a female pilot work twice as hard for the privilege of wearing the wings.

She'd finished in the top 5% of their class, proving herself and nabbing a commission most of the other flyers could only dream of. When Sam had transferred to Dulles Air Force base a year after graduating he'd been delighted to discover not only was Lane still there but had blossomed into a confident, pack up your shit and take a hike, no-nonsense lady. Well-liked and respected by her squad, she had remembered Sam fondly and had been happy to show him the ropes and eventually allowed him to take her out for a drink.

“You, uh… you look good too, Lanie,” Sam murmured softly, taking her in properly. She’d always been beautiful, even with her hair in the regulation bun, slicked back and shining with gel and a fresh face. Now though, he wasn’t sure he could be in her vicinity much longer without a drink in his hand.

“Thanks, big shot,” she smiled, that heart-stopping, flirty thing that always sent his heart a flutter. “How is that going? Being Cap?”

Sam sucked in a breath. “Big shoes to fill,” he chuckled as Lane caught his elbow gently, leading him towards the bar.

“And yet they fit you so well, Sam,” she replied, “I certainly had no doubt they would.”

A familiar fluttering filled his chest as Sam felt a blush creeping up his neck, “Thanks Lanie, that uh, means a lot coming from you”

She smiled again, that smile that was seared into his brain from the first moment they met at training camp. A smile that brightened the room and dulled away all the worries that plagued his heart since taking up the mantle.

“And you,” Sam cleared his throat, as his tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips, “I hear you’re basically running the program now, but not flying anymore what’s that about?”

A flash of a pained expression crossed her face, before she covered it with a soft smirk and shook her head, “you keeping tabs on me, Wilson?” She questioned, teasingly.

His heart flipped at the question. He had been keeping tabs on her, a small obsession and mainly just to make sure she was still kicking. "You know how airmen and women are."

Lane raised a brow, "and what about you? Any new aliens I should know about."

Sam chuckled and shook his head thankful for the change of subject. If she knew just how much he had been following her career on his own it would open that can of worms they decided to close a long time ago. "Androids maybe, aliens..." he shook his head, "not as of late."

"Good to know the world's in safe hands." She turned to the bartender. "Can I get an Old Fashioned and...?"

"Just a beer for me," Sam ordered. The area around the bar was getting crazy busy, with other attendees pressing against them trying to get served.

Lane passed him his beer and stepped away from the bar, taking a gulp of her drink, she then motioned her glass towards the balcony doors. "I need to get some air, it's a little warm in here." She turned away from him and took another couple of steps. "It really is lovely to see you Sam," she smiled, a shy smile which reminded him so much of their first time together. "Maybe we don't leave it so long next time."

He wanted to say something else, to follow after her. To continue the conversation that he craved so desperately but he could see she needed out. She had never quite fit in events like these. She was beautiful and good at pretending she was social but Sam could see the obligatory scowl flicker to her face when the important people weren't looking. Same old Lane. Wanted to be anywhere else than where she had to be.

Sam spent the night fielding questions from politicians, and making sure his overgrown, chaotic dates, Bucky and Peter, stayed out of the mead. It wasn't until he was sitting alone with his third beer in the wind and the band started to play the after dinner music that he realized his mind had been on Lane all night. She floated around the room, avoiding the big crowds and speaking directly to a few important people but it never lasted long and she disappeared as quickly as she appeared.

"Why don't you ask her to dance?" Peter slumped down into the chair beside Sam. "I've been watching you, watching her all night."

"I haven't been watching no-one, Squirt." Sam brushed him off but his eyes found her again, slender curves and bright, fake smile as she awkwardly shook hands with another man.

"She looks like she needs saving," Peter shrugged.

But Lane had never needed saving, not really.

"Chicken," Peter resorted to name calling and as soon as he turned on him the squawking stopped.

“I will put you on mission laundry duty,” Sam threatened, “and I know for a fact Barnes leaves his go-bag far longer than he should between washes. Every. Single. Time.”

Peter shuddered and Sam cackled as the younger man scurried away to the bar.

“No mead!” Sam called after him before his gaze fell back to Lane. She was holding her own against the man, a Sergeant in full dress who was pushing his luck with how close he was standing. It wasn’t until his hand skimmed across the small of Lane’s back and she stepped out of his reach that Sam chugged back the rest of his beer and heaved himself up.

“Not saving her, just deterring the creep,” he muttered to himself as he headed in their direction.

"Sergeant, I think it's important to remember we are in the company of many of our superiors." Lane reminded the man with that sickly sweet smile that to others seemed just polite, but Sam knew the venom around it.

The man was just about to part his lips to counter when Sam stepped to her side, "Sir I believe Rhodey was looking for you."

He frowned and shook his head walking away from them.

"I didn't need saving Cap." Lane said after a moment when the man was out of earshot.

"No you didn't, but he did. I remember when you almost roundhoused a guy who thought touching you was a god given right." Sam responded, "And as you say, we're surrounded by superiors."

"That was a lifetime ago Sam, the new me doesn't get violent, I just get even. Unfinished business and all that." She bit her lower lip and looked like she wanted to say more, but took another sip of her drink instead.

Sam watched as another uniform approached her from behind and instead of leaving her to the dogs like she so clearly wanted to be Sam extended his hand.

"How about a dance?" He asked.

Lane eyed his hand, thoughts swirled around behind those pretty eyes and then she downed her drink and set it aside and slid her hand into his.

"You still step on toes?" She teased and Sam huffed. "I'll take that as a yes."

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Sam quipped, leading her onto the dance floor and Lane laughed lightly.

“I’m a risk taker, Wilson. It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

The music grew louder the closer they got to the band, big brass swelling around the crooning of the singer they’d hired. Sam pulled Lane closer, holding her slender frame against his body as they began to sway gently.

“Now, I don’t know about that, Lanie. You’ve never hidden yourself from me.”

"That you know of." Lane smirked up at him, her long hair cascading down her back as her chin lifted to look up at him. Those dark eyes finding his, "I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."

Sam raised a brow, "you can't keep a secret for the life of you."

She grinned up at him again, a mischievous look behind her eyes, "that you know of."

Sam led Lane around the dance floor, the two of them in comfortable silence, but he was sure she could see the words brewing in his eyes, something he had been dying to offload ever since they parted ways.

He cleared his throat, pulling her closer to him so that their cheeks met, entwining their fingers so that there was no escaping his nearness. "Before, when you mentioned unfinished business, did you mean us? Is that what we are?"

"What do you think, Sam?" she asked softly, "Are we unfinished or was this over a long time ago?"

Sam felt his breath catch in his throat before speaking, "You tell me, Lane. I wasn't the one who took a mission and didn't come home."

"That's unfair Sam," She said, "you know what it's like on those missions..." She trailed off. Her hands tight in Sam's as they spun in a lazy circle.

"Out there, sure," Sam answered, "but you came home, all I expected was a phone call."

"Phone calls can still be hard when you don't know what to say," She hummed and let him spin her out and away from him, before gently bringing her back against his chest. Her back molded to his front as their cheeks pressed together as they silently worked through all those hard unspoken emotions.

"We were never very good at talking anyways, Lanie."

Sam felt the reverberation of her hum through his chest and he turned his head, letting his lips graze lightly over her jaw.

“Sam,” she said softly, her breath hitching.

“Tell me you didn’t want it to be over,” he whispered lowly, “because I know I didn’t.”

Lane tensed in his arms and Sam sighed. He should have known.

“Sam, you have a speech to make soon. Let’s not do this now, please? Just dance with me a little longer.”

"Give me something, Lane," he was battling to keep his voice neutral. He was sure that once he left her to make his speech, she'd take off again.

"I can't do this here, tonight Sam. Just for now let's pretend that we're a couple," she rested her head against his shoulder and Sam tightened his hold on her slightly as she turned her face and rubbed her nose up and down his neck. If Sam closed her eyes, he could imagine that he was her wingman, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear, making her shudder with want.

When she spun away this time, her fingers slipped from his and just like before she slipped into the crowd and away from him.

He made to go after her when the crowd parted and the mic screeched over the heads of everyone, "everyone please welcome to the stage our very own Captain America, Sam Wilson!"

Sam nodded, turning on his heal and painting a smile on his face and raised his hand in the air making his way to the stage to do his speech but his mind wandered to his Lanie, where she would have run off to and how far he'd have to go to chase her down this time.

Jogging up the steps to the microphone, Sam squinted against the lights and gathered his wit, feeling a little out of sorts now.

Under the attention of literally everyone in the room, he cleared his throat and patted down his pocket for his speech as his eyes settled on Bucky and Peter, the two of them lounging at their table with tumblers that were definitely filled with the Agardian mead he told them to steer clear of. Bucky grinned up at him and flashed two over-enthusiastic thumbs up and Peter cupped his hands around his mouth, whooping and cheering far too loudly for such a dignified gala.

Still, it settled something within him and he dragged his eyes across the room, telling himself he wasn’t searching for her as he unfolded the piece of paper in his hand.

His entire speech felt distant, like he was on autopilot as he said the words and the crowd laughed from time to time. When the applause started and he folded the paper back up his heart raced with one last scan of the crowd. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of navy satin disappearing out onto one of the balconies that he finally took a breath and followed her outside.

As he tried to make his way through the crowd, people clapped him on the back and stepped in front of him to comment on his speech. His eyes stayed trained on the balcony door, politely and professionally stepping around everyone who got in his way. He'd fight his way through an alien battlefield if it meant Lane was waiting for him on the other side. The glimmer of hope that clung to his chest drew him forward, through everything.

Stepping out into the fresh spring breeze, Sam felt his breath catch in his throat once more as the moonlight shimmered on across her gown and illuminated her eyes, "Leaving me again so soon, Lanie?" he commented.

"That's not fair, Sam," she whispered, hugging her arms around her middle, her fingers gripping into the fabric of her dress.

She stood there, throat bobbing.

"Listen, I don't want to spend anymore time here and I don't think you do either. I did my speech, I paid my dues," Sam stepped forward, "why don't we go home?"

Sam watched as her whole body tensed at his use of the word. He knew what he was doing, they had never lived together but home was less of a place for the two of them, more of a feeling. "You can talk," Sam said quietly but firmly as he reached out to her, "I can listen."

He watched the tears pool in her eyes as they darted softly across his face, almost like she was looking for the man he was all those years ago. Trying so hard to ground herself before putting her hand in his. Lane never did like showing her feelings, she always felt like she couldn’t and he could only hope to make her feel as safe as she did for him.

"Damn you, Sam Wilson," she muttered, but there was a soft, tentative smile on her face as she threaded her fingers with his. "If we're gonna do this, I need the greasiest, cheesiest burger you can get around here."

"I'll do you one better. You come back to the compound with me and I'll cook you up somethin' special, maybe somethin' from my Mama's secret recipe stash."

"You mean Sarah finally shared them with you?" Lane chuckled, her eyes still glistening. "God, I used to love going home with you for that cooking."

"Just for the cooking?" Sam replied, flashing her his best smile as Lane rolled her eyes. "What do you say, Lanie? We're both here, now, and if this is the only chance we get..."

"Take me home, bird boy," Lane smirked playfully, squeezing his hand gently.

Another swarm of butterflies fluttered against Sam's rib cage at the familiar nickname he'd earned from his friends back on base. He let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back, "Oh that's what we're doing now?"

Smiling brightly, Lane hummed and nodded once, bumping her shoulder into his as she dragged him back towards the door. Sam shook his head once more as he followed, tucking the two of them close to the wall as they snuck through the crowded room. Only a few people tried to catch his attention but there was nothing that was going to take him away from escaping with his girl.

The car was waiting out front and when he finally had her in the back seat it was like a tidal wave of relief had washed over him. He always knew how much he missed her, but seeing her here, ready and finally willing to just talk to him. It was different. He couldn't explain how real it all felt. So he kept his hand tucked in hers, craving the sensation of her skin until he could get her alone.

Lane was nervous, he could feel it in her touch when she squeezed his hand with worry. He couldn't even remember the last time she had gone home with him.

God he had missed her. "We're almost there," he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

Lane smiled, small and tight, when the car pulled in through the security gate and she peered out the window at the sprawling compound. Once parked up, Sam helped her out, tucking her under his arm as they headed through the front door and through to the common room.

The place was in relative darkness, the soft lighting usually set for night time, and Sam caught the way Lane’s shoulders fell, tension physically oozing out of her.

“Take a seat,” he murmured softly, “I’ll open a bottle of red.”

He wandered over to the small wine storage, searching for the bottle of Lane’s favourite he knew he kept for memory’s sake, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sliding it out, he was met with a selfie of Bucky the idiot took when Sam wasn’t looking — Peter’s doing really, he’s sure — and he brushed his thumb across the screen to quickly take the call.

“Are you allowed to bail on your own gala?”Bucky asked immediately, “at least tell me you’re alive.”

Sam breathed out a short laugh, "Alive and well, Buck. Just something I need to take care of," he smiled softly, grabbing the wine bottle off the shelf and turning it over in his hands.

"Something or someone?" Bucky pressed, the hint of a joke in his grumpy voice, "If I have to stay here, I don't think it's fair that you got to leave, even the kid is leaving with Kate and Yelena, something about playing Kings" he grumbled, "but there's no royalty visiting the city,"

With a shake of his head, Sam couldn't help the roll of his eyes, "It's just a game Buck and you can leave too, just give the kitchen and common floor some space, I'll talk to you later"

Letting out another laugh as he hung up his phone, Sam sauntered back into the living room presenting the wine bottle to Lane, with a proud smile, "Rippon Pinot Noir, just the way you like it,"

"Almost like you kept that sitting around in case I showed up," Lane teased but her voice was tight.

"Better to be prepared than empty handed," Sam uncorked the wine.

"Don't," Lane covered her glass with her hand, "straight out of the bottle or not at all," she smiled.

"Just like the good old days?" Sam nodded.

"I wouldn't call them good, but they were days, and there was wine." Lane added, "and you."

"Then we got all we need," Sam replied softly as he took a seat beside her on the couch. Lane had kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable, and something about that made him smile. That she could be so comfortable in his space again after so long apart.

"So," she started, making grabby hands for the bottle and sipping it delicately. "Are you ready to listen?"

"I'm all ears, sweetheart," he breathed, pressing his body against hers as offered him both the bottle of wine and her hand. He squeezed her fingers gently as Lane took a deep breath.

Lane turned her eyes down to their intertwined hands and swiped her tongue over her lips. Using two of his fingers, Sam lifted her gaze back up to meet his with a soft nod of his head, ensuring she knew that he was right there, whatever happened, he was with her. With a gentle smile ghosting her lips as her dark eyes skated over his face, Lane cleared her throat and began the story of her last mission. The amount of people they'd lost, and how she did everything to save as many as she could, but even the ones who came home didn't really. The emotion in her voice as she talked about her troops, the soft voice cracks and the small tear that escaped down her cheek made Sam's whole body ache. It was supposed to be a track and report mission, but it turned into a search and rescue. He'd been on difficult missions himself but this was something else all together.

Sam wanted to gather her up in his arms and never let her go. To remind her that she was home and safe back in his arms. To tell her that he was never going to let anything bad happen to her again.

"... I was shot out of the sky, just like Riley," she whispered, taking a small sip from the wine bottle in front of her, "My wings wrapped the wrong way and I just... fell. Shrapnel from the shot was lodged in my back with bits from my pack, if I hadn't been over water, I would've -" her voice broke again and Sam traced his thumb over her cheek, catching another tear.

"There's a reason I didn't wear an open back dress tonight," Lane tried to joke, "The scars from surgery after surgery, it's not pretty Sam... and the - mental scars that I carry, it was too much to put on you. You were working with Steve Rogers when I got back, I wasn't about to swoop in and take that away just because I'm broken."

The words caught in Sam's throat, broken. He'd never once thought of Lane as anything but strong and fierce. Like a tidal wave. To hear her talk about herself in a way that was anything less than that, it broke down a wall inside of him.

"Show me, Lanie," He urged, knowing the chances of her saying no were high but he also knew that telling her that she was beautiful, unmarked and flawless. Those words would mean nothing to her, he needed to show her. "I'll show you mine," he added with a soft smile.

"I've seen all your scars, Sam." She whispered, her fingers tighter around the bottle now.

"I have some new ones," he returned the tease, trying to make her comfortable enough to give in and trust him just one more time.

"I don't know, Sam." Her voice was hushed, a quiet murmur in their little corner of the common room.

"How about I go first?" He responded, and with the slight nod of Lane's head, Sam hopped to his feet and shrugged off his jacket, chucking it across the arm of the couch. She looked up then, her sad eyes fixed on his fingers as he worked quickly to undo his tie. Sam flashed her a grin, wiggling his eyebrows as if he were undressing for any other reason but to show off the jagged lines and mottled skin he carried with him now. And he'd do it a million times over if it meant Lane could see the beauty in the scars she carried herself.

Once he reached the last button of his shirt, he let it hang open before he moved onto his belt, ridding himself of his clothes until he stood in nothing but his boxers and his socks and he began to point out his most recent scar, a long, freshly pink line that was a deep slit in his thigh just a few months ago.

"Sam," Lane breathed, her breath hitching.

"One for one?" Sam replied as he held his hand out, waiting patiently for her to take it, to trust him with her hurt like he had with her all those years ago.

Hesitantly, Lane placed her hand in his and stood, leaving a few inches between them as she spun slowly and paused with her back to him, looking over her shoulder, "could you help me?" She whispered.

Sam trailed his fingers softly up her back until he reached the zipper of her dress, pulling it down agonizingly slowly. A long line of raised, discolored flesh ran along her spine, growing the lower he got. He stopped his fingers when he reached the end and Sam swallowed thickly, tracing his thumb over the scar that ran the entire length between her shoulder blades.

"Surgery number one," Lane breathed, leaning into his touch and meeting his gaze once more.

His breath caught in his throat as she let the dress slip from her hips and stepped out of it, turning around to face him. Her face was tight and every agonizing motion she felt was on display as she arched her neck and closed her eyes. "Number two," she whispered, showing him a fleshy twisted scar that spiraled over her bicep and cut into her shoulder. Sam couldn't believe the pain she must have endured from the fall. Not knowing if she was going to survive it, even worse the agony she must have felt waking up alone, completely transformed by the accident.

The strength she must have held, still held, to get through that. Sam would never know what it was like to come out the other side of something as intense as what Lane had been through, but he knew a little something about grief, about the loss of something and the heaviness you live with after as you rebuild your life.

"I think you might be the strongest woman I know," he murmured, taking a small step closer. "but then, you always have been."

Lane's mouth curved into a soft smile, not quite meeting her eyes as she reached for Sam's hand and brought his fingers to her stomach and around to the side of her waist.

"Scar number three," she murmured, as she pressed the pads of Sam's fingers along the thick, raised line that stretched around to her back. "This one's from a piece of my pack that decided to embed itself in my side on impact."

"Lanie," her name came out as a breath as his fingers traced over her skin.

Scar after scar, each and every little one a small reminder of everything she'd been through. Every moment he wasn't by her side to remind her how amazing she was to him. He didn't see the ugliness that she did, all Sam saw was a strong, incredible woman who had been through hell and stood taller because of it. He saw her.

He used his free hand to place two fingers under her chin and bring her eyes up to meet his, "You're beautiful, Lane. Every piece of you. Inside and out. And I will show you that as many times as you need me too and more, if you'll let me," he spoke quietly, drawing her closer, pressing their bodies together.

Sam felt her tremble when he dipped his head and his lips pressed to the scar on her shoulder. Her entire body giving into the soft, slow praises in the form of kisses. A tiny moan slipped from her tired lips as Sam began to show her just how beautiful each scar was.

"I missed you," he said, so quietly it might have been missed over the sound of their breathing but it was out there and it was true. "More than anything."

"I missed you too, Sam," she breathed, as she tilted her head back and to the side as Sam's lips trailed up her neck to her earlobe.

His fingertips dug gently into her skin as he moved up and pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her. He needed her to understand just how much he missed her. Just how beautiful she was in his eyes. Sam swooped down, and lifted Lane into his arms, pulling a giggled from her perfect lips as she pulled back a little to look at him.

Sam shook his head once, and rounded the couch, heading straight down the hallway to his bedroom. There was no way his first time with her was going to be on a couch or the floor of the living room. Those pesky butterflies tickled his chest once more the closer they got and he let the feeling of them wash over him just like her warm citrus scent.

"Sam," Lane practically whined as she dipped her head and kissed a small scar he had on his collarbone.

Electricity shot down from his head to his toes as her lips touched his skin. He’d been waiting, dreaming of her back in his arms for so long and here she was, finally. His Lanie.

He held her tighter reaching a hand out to open his door as quickly as possible, once inside he kicked the door shut and walked them over to his bed. Lane kissed a line up his neck as she ran her fingers delicately through his scalp. A shiver ran up his spine as she reached his jaw and pulled back to meet his eyes. He propped his knee on the mattress before softly laying Lanie against it. He stared at her, looking just like the angel she was to him with her hair spread out along the mattress. Her throat bobbed under his gaze, and her breaths picked up, Sam smiled at her soft and full of all the love he’d been holding onto for her.

He pushed her legs open a bit with his leg before he settled into a hover atop her body, holding onto his weight he dipped his head and touched his nose to hers eliciting a gasp from her lips.

“Can I kiss you Lanie, please?” He whispered, his heart pounding in his chest.

“If you don’t I’m definitely gonna kiss you,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Sam didn't hesitate, dipping into her soft laughter and consuming it whole. He wanted everything. Her lips felt like heaven dancing against his as he cupped her face and tangled his fingers into her hair. He missed her so much that nothing else mattered, he barely remembered to breathe. Her mouth parted and he swiped his tongue against hers, deepening their connection as her hands roamed his chest and back.

Her fingers dragged over his shoulder blades, tickling his skin and drawing a throaty laugh from him as he broke away.

"I'm glad we haven't forgotten everything," he winked at her as he pulled away and started to work down her throat with his teeth and lips.

Her soft laugh turned into a breathy moan as he moved over her skin, paying attention to the little scars that littered it like a story of everything she'd overcome. "My strong," he dragged his lips across her collarbone, "incredible," a soft kiss to the scar on her shoulder, "beautiful, girl" he moved down to press his lips to the large scar on her side.

Her breath picked up pace as her fingers trailed, "Baby please," Lane whispered, as her eyes followed him down her body, "Come back to me,"

Sam obeyed, stretching his body back up and capturing her lips with his with more passion than he knew what to do with. Everything he'd ever dreamed of was laying beneath him and it was his new mission to make her understand how much she meant to him.

Sam pulled his lips from hers with a soft tug of her bottom lip, pulling a whine from her with the action. He kissed along her jaw and down her neck the soft mewls coming from her pushing him forward. He reached the curve of her breasts and breathed in her scent, smiling against her skin.

“Sam please,” Lane whispered.

He pressed wet kisses along her clothed breasts, flicking his tongue lightly along her pebbled nipples. He pulled back, smiling at her and moved a hand under her lifting her gently, pressing her chest flush against his.

“I’m taking this off now, yes?”

Lane nodded and took his lips in his in a feverish kiss.

Sam smiled against her skin as his fingers worked deftly at her bra, unhooking it with ease and tossing it aside. He palmed her breast and brought her exposed nipple between his lips, sucking gently until her hips arched into his touch. Her hands raked over his scalp as he massaged her chest.

"What do you want?" He asked her, not knowing where to start himself. His touch was fuzzy against her warm skin and all he wanted to do was kiss her until she begged him to stop.

"You... just you," Lane breathed, moving her hips up into his, "touch me, baby, please"

Sam groaned into her skin at her words, kissing his way down her body and stopping at the edge of her panties, "Can I take these off, beautiful?" he hummed.

It still felt surreal to him that she was here, allowing him to explore her body and take in each and every sound she made for him. He wanted to savour the moment, remember every movement but his own body betrayed him. It ached to touch her and drink her in, to keep her skin pressed against his and make her whine his name over and over.

With a nod of her head, Sam hooked his fingers into the sides and pulled them down her legs, pressing soft kisses along the way until he flung her panties across his room, landing them over a picture of him and Steve, making Lane giggle softly.

He sat back and admired her taking his time to commit every single inch of her body to memory. He wrapped his fingers delicately around her ankle lifting her leg up and pressing his lips to her calf with a teasing smile as she writhed under his touch.

“Really, all this time and you wanna tease me now?”

Sam breathed a laugh against her skin, pressing more kisses along her leg, inching closer to her center painfully slow even for himself.

“I’m savoring you,” he hummed. “Two very different things, your cute little scowl is just a bonus.”

"This cute little scowl is impatient," Lane cooed at him but her words were swallowed by a sharp gasp.

Sam's tongue flickered out over Lane, already so wet and sweet. He couldn't stop himself as his hand roamed over her hip and pressed against her stomach. He peered up at her, drinking in how euphoric she had become under his touch. He worked in slow circles that drew the sweetest sounds from her lips as he quickened in pace, chasing the sounds of her pleasure.

Lane’s hands ground him in place, soft but firm as her hips moved in sync with his tongue. Her moans filling the room as she whispered his name over and over like a prayer as she chased her high. Sam felt her tense up beneath him before he fingers reached for his cheek, calling his attention to her.

“Sam please, I need to feel you,” She panted and he smiled pressing a kiss to her thigh, “Come here handsome.”

Despite wanting to please her, Sam took his time, kissing his way back up her body, paying specific attention to each scar that littered her torso. A soft whine escaped her lips and her soft hands found his cheeks as she gently tried to pull him back to her.

"So impatient," Sam whispered, ghosting his lips up her throat and capturing her with his before she could say anything, tangling their tongues together and letting her taste her sweetness.

He settled himself between her legs and teased her entrance with the head of his cock, ignoring his own throbbing to take in more of her beautiful pleading sounds. He hoped to any god listening that they would have many more moments like this, just the two of them enjoying each other, but he also knew that life could be reckless and unpredictable, their scars telling that exact story to one another. It just made this moment with his girl all that more important to him.

Lane's hand travelled down and cupped his ass, urging him forward, "Sammy," she breathed against his lips.

Nothing else mattered in that moment as he slipped into her entrance with a soft, silky thrust that melted their bodies together. She was so tight that it took him an moment to adjust, gently rocking his hips back and forth until she was a puddle of breathless moans and tiny huffs. His lips found hers again, needy and hungry for more. He wanted to be closer than ever before and he accomplished that mission with each thrust forward.

"You're so beautiful," he hummed when he parted, cupping her face with his hand and admiring the soft freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose. Her lips partially open and her eyes searching his as they rocked together at a delicious pace chasing their high in unison.

His fingers danced along her skin trailing from her cheek down her side. Her scarred skin was soft and smooth under his touch while he mapped a constellation of scars on her side. Lane wriggled beneath him, her moans bringing a smile to his face. There were so many times that he felt an incredible pang in his chest with every moment he ached for her and now having her so close feeling the way her body molds to his, Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let her go after this.

“Lanie,” he breathed, dipping his head and pressing soft chaste kisses along her collar bone to the spot on her neck that always makes her squirm. His hands traveled down her sides to the outside of her thighs, pulled her even closer and hiked her hips off of the bed in a new angle, one that dragged a delicious moan from her lips.

Lane's head lifted as she pressed a kiss to the scar on his collarbone, gasping into his skin as he thrust forward and hit her sensitive spot. A shiver of pleasure shot down his spine as she gripped his length tighter and fluttered around him, her orgasm growing within her. They're soft sounds echoed through his room as his pace became quick and needy, chasing their highs together.

"Sammy," she whined, moving her hips in tandem with his, craving the same closeness that he was as her head fell back into his pillow and pressed backwards.

The pressure grew deep within his stomach but Sam needed her to reach her climax first. He needed to give that to her, to feel her pleasure erupt around him.

Her nails dug into his skin as her breathing became ragged and her body tensed in his arms. He felt the cord snap within her as his name danced off her lips in a series of breathless moans that made him heavy dizzy with pride.

"That's my girl, keeping going," he praised both verbally and physically as he picked up the pace, his rhythm growing sloppy as he chased her orgasm in search of his own. Her lips on his skin was enough to drive him crazy as her cunt fluttered around him, dragging him inch for inch closer to the edge.

She felt like heaven around him, gripping his length and still fluttering. Warmth spread through his veins and pleasure curled around his lower back the further he pushed himself. Lane’s moans turned into soft whimpers as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, whispering soft praises as his hips snapped against hers, out of rhythm until it was too much. He felt her nails dig into his back, her legs hooked around his waist as he came.

His hips slowed, rocking lazily as he trailed kisses along the inside of her neck.

Her fingers trailed up his spine and scraped into his scalp as she did her best to catch her breath. The overwhelming sense of comfort drifted over Sam as he kept his lips pressing into her skin, relishing in the moment of their bodies together. The sound of a hitch in her breath made him sit up slightly, catching her soft brown eyes with his own as he furrowed his brow.

"Lanie, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He asked, his hand coming up to cup her cheek gently.

She shook her head with a ghost of a smile and placed her hand over his, "I just - I missed you so much, Sam"

With a small breath of relief, Sam returned the smile, leaning his forehead down against hers and brushing their noses together, "I missed you too, Lanie. More than you know"

#sam wilson #sam wilson au #captain america #captain america au #sam wilson oneshot #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x oc #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvel au #marvelous #fluff #hurt/comfort #friends to lovers #one shot

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thesugarclubs-blog · 1 month

Text

A Shot to the Heart - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: mr & mrs smith vibes, injuries, hurt x comfort, hospital stay

word count: 6.9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1431325298-a-shot-to-the-heart-florence

vibe: "How are you feeling?" he asked, "You had me so worried, baby girl."

"Like I was hit by Mjolnir," she tried to smile weakly. She tried to lift her head but stopped, wincing and groaning.

Masterlist

It was quiet. Too quiet.

His target’s villa was supposed to be littered with bodyguards, even as Bucky made his way silently through the hallway leading to the man selling the latest deadly drug on the market, something felt off about the silence.

He’d encountered almost no resistance.

His heartbeat was thrumming steadily in his ears as he neared the main bedroom, the door beckoning him like a bullseye. His steps were quiet as he closed one fist around the handle while the other tightened on his trusty blade.

The door didn’t make a sound as he opened it and slipped through it, closing it swiftly as his ears caught the faint sound of music. Bucky’s brows furrowed as he inched closer to the noise leaking through the spacious wing. His intel was solid, he’d been monitoring the French-Algerian mercenary for a month now.

Batroc had a set routine; hide in plain sight while making connections with the local higher ups of the island he was currently hiding in, stay in his villa to host parties on the weekends, and he was always alone on weekdays. He even went to bed early.

Which is why Bucky was confused as to why he was awake– apparently with a companion from the sounds of seductive music filtering in through the walls, when he was supposed to be sleeping. The job was supposedly an easy in-and-out.

Pulling his gun with the silencer attached, he held the two weapons and decided to spring into action with quick steps only for his feet to stop at the sight of a very familiar body swaying seductively in front of a dazed looking French asshole. The woman’s back was to Bucky while she slowly stripped off a trench coat and dropped it to the floor. The blood rushing through his veins was boiling hot but not because of the black corset that was painted on her every delicious curve. No, it was because that body with a distinctive constellation of birthmarks on the back belonged to his wife.

Betrayal. Anger. White hot rage burned everywhere.

“Florence? What the fuck?!”

"Bucky," a tiny whisper left her lips, whether it was annoyance or surprise, Bucky wasn't quite sure.

His eyes flickered between Florence and Batroc, a dangerous man now with the upper hand as his realization clicked into place that he was in danger.

"Guards!" He bellowed, scrambling up from his seated position and tumbling over the side. Within seconds four sets of boots were rushing down the hall at them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She whipped around on her stilettos. Clicking across the floor toward Batroc as she swiped her jacket from the floor, but it wasn't the jacket that came up in her hands, it was a slim, black pistol. Poised to kill.

"What am I doing here?" Bucky growled, slamming the thin doors closed behind him. They wouldn't keep the guards out but it would buy them some time. "You're a kindergarten teacher!" The shock was settling in, grasping a hold of any rational thoughts he might have had coming into this mission. "What are you doing here?" He kicked his boot against the couch and sent it flying up against the doors, barricading them inside.

“Listen, clearly we need to talk but this really isn’t the time, Bucky.”

Bucky stared at her bewildered, struggling to wrap his head around what his sweet, civilian wife was doing in the home of a French mercenary.

“No shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, head snapping at the sound of quickening footsteps and growing shouts. “Can you run in those?” He asked, pointing to her shoes.

“You know I can. I take it this is a normal Tuesday for you so what’s the plan?”

“Normal Tuesday,” He scoffed “I’ll talk to you about a normal Tuesday you just w-”

“James!” Bucky’s mumbles were cut off by Florence’s exasperated voice piercing through his ears, “not now.”

He shook his jumbled thoughts from his head as he found her eyes and nodded sharply, turning towards the door and pushing her just slightly behind him as he braced himself for the incursion.

“What are you doing?” She hissed.

“Florence just,”

Both their heads turned to the sounds of Batroc clambering to open a window on the far left side of the room. He watched her in complete awe, mouth agape as she raised her gun and pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing straight through his hand.

“You were saying?”

“Just, do exactly that I guess,” He turned back towards the sounds closing in on them and back to her, not a sliver of trepidation in her beautiful chestnut eyes. “And don’t get hurt, please.” His brows knit in worry before he took a steadying breath and turned away once more.

Florence scoffed as she stalked over to where Batroc lay on the ground, clutching his wrist and moaning painfully. She bent over, displaying her ass and the length of her legs, which had Bucky moaning almost as loud as his target but for an entirely different reason. His distraction was soon over as his wife scooped up her jacket and slipped it on before turning to Batroc once more.

“Where are the files, you piece of shit,” she hissed, pressing one stilettoed foot against his throat.

“Wait a second,” Bucky interrupted. “Files? What files?”

He saw his wife release a sigh of annoyance as she pressed the heeled foot into Batroc's chest now, making him wince in pain when her heel dug deep.

"I would say it's classified but..." she gave Bucky a wickedly brilliant smile over her shoulder that almost had him forgetting he was angry.

"...I'm guessing you're here for the same reason, my love. I want the files on the new drug he has circling around."

"I was sent to take him out," Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Florence rolled her shoulders and dug her heel deep into his chest as he tried to squirm away, mumbling something about internal communication under her breath.

"You were never supposed to find out this way." She looked up at him. Regret painted across her beautiful face.

Bucky opened his mouth to respond when the door behind him flew open and three men crashed into the room with their weapons drawn. He was quick on the first, grabbing his gun hand and slamming it against the door frame painfully and with enough force to snap the man's arm in half before kicking him backward out into the hallway.

"This conversation isn't over!" He grunted, taking a gunshot to his vibranium arm. It shuddered in response, curling up and rebounding the bullet away. "You guys never learn." He hauled back his arm, the plates shifting and clicking before making contact. The man yelped and stumbled backward, dropping his gun and clutching his crushed face as Bucky stalked him.

A gunshot rang out in the room, Bucky turning only to catch the third man crumbling to the floor, a leaking hole through his temple.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Florence quipped with a shrug of her slender shoulders.

"Ren!" Bucky barked as a second shot echoed. Batroc's bloody hand curled around the handle aimed at Florence. Bucky slammed his boot against the throat of the second guard, rendering him unconscious as Florence exhaled a shaky breath and her fingers found the blood that poured from her shoulder.

"You shot me!" She groaned loudly, turning on Batroc and laying a swift, hard kick across his face. Clipping his arm in the motion, his gun went sliding across the room as more footsteps pounded down the hallway toward them. "We need to..." her words faltered and so did her step as the color drained from her face.

Bucky's eyes widened and he rushed forward, adrenaline pumping furiously through his veins as he reached for Florence. She glanced down at the blood pooling from the bullet hole and swayed, stumbling for the wall as Bucky swiftly caught her. He pressed his fingers to her shoulder, trying to staunch the wound.

"Fuck! Florence, sweetheart, you gotta stay with me long enough for us to get out of here. Think you can do that for me?" He murmured as he tried to tamper down the rising panic. Never mind that she'd lied to him, if anything happened to her he'd lose it.

"Huh?" Florence hummed, glassy eyes meeting his.

"We gotta get out of here, Ren. I gotta get you out of here."

"Batroc..." she mumbled but Bucky couldn't dart his eyes away from her while he tried to hold her upright.

"I don't give a fuck about Batroc. All I care about is you right now, pretty girl." Her weight was getting heavier in his arms and he forced himself to look around for any other danger. He wouldn't risk her getting hurt again only because he let his emotions take over for a short moment.

Instead of using the advantage, Batroc was glued to the floor in front of them, the gun still in his bloody hand. Bucky's eyes narrowed and he shot the French a death glare that normally was reserved for Red Wing.

"You!" he started, adjusting his grip around Florence's middle while his vibranium hand reached into the holster that was securing multiple knives to his thigh.

"Merde," Batroc hissed, spinning around and trying to open the window behind him with his good hand. Bucky flicked the knife and it pierced effortlessly through Batroc's hand, making him grunt in pain.

“No-one. Touches. My. Wife.” Bucky growled through gritted teeth, shoving down the urge to make the mercenary’s last meal a mouth full of vibranium.

A gentle touch to his cheek brought him back to himself and he looked down at his precious burden, who stared at him with a look of utter adoration.

“That was really hot,” she slurred but then her eyes rolled backward and her lids fluttered closed, her hand falling from his face as she slipped into unconsciousness.

“Ren, REN! Shit!” Bucky hissed as he held her tighter, running out of the room as carefully as he could.

“Medic, we need…agent down…shot. I need her…just…help…” he babbled into his comm, his voice cracking as he tried to relay the information.

The response confirming they heard him and help is on the way was muted by the chaos around them both.

"Fuck! Just– just hang on baby, I'll get you out of here."

He told Florence, trying to keep her concious enough to get them out of there safely. Her body was getting heavier in Bucky's arms as he carried her and maneuvered around the room with shots coming from every direction and headed to the only exit available; the window.

Peering out once he was close enough, Bucky tightened his grip on Florence. All he could see was a thin ledge running along the outside of the villa, the one Batroc must have clung to before climbing in through the window. There was no way he would be able to balance on that with his wife in his arms, or use it to leverage himself down further.

The drop wasn't huge, but he still didn't like the idea of jumping, not with Florence fading in and out, her blood seeping into his own tac jacket, hot and sticky, as he held her closer. She groaned softly, skin pale and dewy with sweat.

"It's alright, pretty girl. I got you," he gritted out just as a shot whistled past him, shattering the plaster of the wall in front of them. "Fuck. Okay, we gotta go. Hold on tight, Ren. S'gonna be okay."

Bucky heaved himself up onto the window ledge, glancing once behind him. Pressing his lips into Florence's hair, he put his focus on his landing point and counted down quietly before jumping.

“Just… fo- for the record… I’m as ba- badass as you,” she mumbled, a ghost of a smile dancing on her lips.

“Shhh. Save your energy, baby. You can show me all your badass-ness later.” He couldn’t stop his heart from going haywire.

Boot steps were echoing through the room he just climbed out of and while tightening his one arm around Florence, he held his gun through the window with the other, shooting completely blind. To his own surprise he heard the thud of a body right after the ringing of the shot vanished in his ears.

With quick head movements he scanned their surroundings.

Pressing them up against the wall of the villa, he took a glance back down at Florence and his heart sank even further when he saw she’d slipped back into unconsciousness.

Quickly sliding along the wall and back around to his entry point he blinked away the tears that threatened to cloud his vision as he rasped against the lump that had formed in his throat.

“I know you’d have made that jump, pretty girl, even in heels. God, I’m so proud of you, I mean, I was before too, wrangling toddlers needs nerves of steel but…I’m rambling, sweetness, I know, I’m sorry. I just want you to wake up.”

He sniffled loudly and carefully adjusted the long leather jacket around his wife’s lingerie-clad form, making sure she wouldn’t get too chilled.

He took a glance to the left and right before dashing across the villa’s courtyard and towards the side gate where he’d entered not ten minutes before.

Reaching his car, Bucky laid Florence delicately in the passenger seat, as if she were made of glass, before climbing behind the wheel and setting off in the direction of his rendezvous point, hoping beyond hope that the med-evac would get there in time.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as Bucky drove. Voices over his comm directed him where he needed to go but it all seemed to fade in the background as images of their life together flashed before him. The night they met, their wedding...Bucky felt a pang of hurt in his chest when his mind raised the question of if any of it was real.

Saddened blue eyes flickered to his wife, her chest barely rising and falling with her shallow breaths. Waking her up would mean having to face the fact that their relationship he thought was built on honesty and truth was tainted with a secret so big it got her hurt.

After a few sharp turns and questionable roads he spotted the med-evac waiting for them just beyond the brush. Bucky quickly threw the car into park and slid his wife from the vehicle, her soft groans and whimpers only shattered off pieces of his heart the more he jostled her around. "You're gonna get through this." He whispered into her hair. "Don't you die on me Ren."

"Sergeant Barnes! Sergeant!"

The shouts made the woman in his arms flinch for a moment as he turned to see a handful of people coming towards him, carrying all kinds of medical aid.

"Sergeant Barnes! What happened?" One of them questioned while he rushed to get her on the stretcher they laid for her. His wife's whimpers of pain pierced through his heart as they started to undress her from the top to see the wound.

"Be careful with her," Bucky whispered. Not really paying attention to anything else but the love of his life as he cradled her pale face in his palms.

"Sergeant? May I ask who this is?" An agent accompanying the medical team asked in a careful tone, "we were not informed there would be anyone else but you, sir."

He didn't answer. He didn't know how to even begin to explain the situation when his head was swarmed with questions of his own.

Another pained whimper left Ren's mouth, this one louder and breaking through his thoughts.

"I said be fucking careful!" Bucky seethed at the medic.

The woman's eyes flicked to him but her expression remained passive as she examined the bullet wound, unaffected by his anger. He supposed they had to be.

"It was a through and through, but she's lost a lot of blood," Bucky explained, "just-- fuck, you gotta save her."

"We'll do our best, Sergeant. Are you travelling back with us?"

It took a second for the medic's words to catch up and he glowered, stepping closer with his vibranium hand balled into a fist.

"I'm sorry? You'll do your best? You fucking save her and that's an order."

"Sergeant, stand down," a voice piped up amongst the fray just as the medic murmured out a weak, "yes, Sarge."

The medic started to put ECG electrodes all over Florence‘s upper body and Bucky‘s eyes darted over to the monitor to see how his wife was doing.

Her heart was beating regularly, but slower than usual. The sound of her normal, steady heartbeat while he had his head resting on her chest was burned into his brain.

He struggled more and more to keep the concern at bay, but when they placed the cuff around her good arm and he saw how low her blood pressure was, his heart ached and he was sure someone was tightening a rope around his chest.

“Do something,” he whispered, his eyes wandering to Ren‘s unconscious face. She looked almost peaceful, like she was sleeping. And she was so fucking beautiful even with her paled skin and sweat all over her face. He’d been the luckiest man on earth that she chose him all those years ago. At least he thought he was, until today when his world was turned upside down.

“You listen to me, Florence Barnes,” he gritted, shouldering a poor medic out of the way as he leaned towards his wife’s ear. “I know we said in sickness and in health but this is taking things a bit too far now, don’t you think?”

The medics eyed each other in shock and surprise, one mouthing his wife?! at the others before they doubled-down their efforts to stabilise the fallen agent.

“Baby, you just gotta…fight…you know? I know I’m an absolute train wreck, ha, but I need you, Ren, I need you so much.”

A harsh beep from the equipment had the medics moving even more frantically as one of them turned to Bucky and grabbed his elbow.

“With all due respect, Sergeant, move, now!”

Bucky glared down at the medic, wrenching his arm out of their grasp. "Save Her.”

The medic gave him a solemn nod before Bucky stepped back and let them get to work. He watched from the edge of the bay, pacing every few moments before stopping whenever they'd start barking orders at each other. He knew enough medical terminology to patch a bullet wound, but anything deeper than that he was foggy. It felt like his heart wanted to explode out of his chest until a familiar voice came over his comms.

"Florence! Buck you brought Florence on a mission with you what the hell man!" Sam's angry voice echoed through his ear.

"I didn't bring her." Bucky muttered as he stared at his wife.

"What did you just say?"

"She was already there."

“The fuck? Man what the hell is goin’ on?!”

“Fuck if I know, Sam,” Bucky replied.

He hated this, the helpless feeling he never thought he’d experience with Florence. The worst case scenario played out in his head as he watched on — he would have to tell her family, her kids, fuck, who wants to tell a bunch of kindergarteners their teacher died? He let himself wonder briefly what song she would want played and that’s when he broke. A sob worked its way up his throat, his bottom lip quivering.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice came again, softer this time. “She’s still here, Buck. She’s gonna fight and you gotta be strong for her.”

Bucky nodded, sure Sam could probably see him somehow, and wiped his eyes just as a medic approached him tentatively.

“Sergeant, we have her stabilised but we need to leave now, are you coming with us?”

“Yeah, yeah” He whispered, clearing his throat. “Sammy,”

“I’ll see you two in a few Buck, we’re not losing her. That’s a promise.”

Sam’s voice faded into static as he disconnected on his end and with that Bucky took out his earpiece with a disheartened huff as he made his way to the med-evac.

When they reached the van’s double doors he paused, taking a deep breath before the agent next to him spoke.

“Sir, we’re not too far from base and we’ve got her covered until we get there. Would you like to ride alone with her in the back?” The blonde smiled sympathetically as he raised his eyes from the road to meet hers.

“Is that safe? I don’t- I need her to be okay,”

“I can jump back if needed but she’s stable for right now. She does need to go into surgery as soon as we get to base, so you know,”

“As long as you save her, anything.” He whispered before adding. “I apologize for my outburst, agent.”

“Understandable. I hope you don’t mind my saying but, I think we can all agree you’ve lost enough in your life already, Sergeant. We’ll do everything we can.”

Bucky nodded, holding back tears as his heart clenched tightly in his chest before stepping inside the cabin, settling gently in the bench beside the stretcher where his entire soul lay still.

He could make out a thick bandage secured with tape over Florence‘s shoulder, her arm bent and held by a makeshift sling.

“You can grab her hand if you want to. Show her that you’re here by her side,” the medic suggested but Bucky hesitated.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt her,“ he mumbled, struggling more and more to hold back the tears that made his vision blurry. He needed her to be safe in an OR at the base before he would let himself fall apart.

“You won’t. She’s a fighter, that's for sure.” the blond smiled again. Bucky reached out a shaking hand and grabbed Ren‘s small one in his. He’d done that thousand times before but today everything was different. His thumb brushed over the top of her hand before he pulled it close and placed a tender kiss on each of her knuckles.

And despite his best efforts, in this moment Bucky let the emotions break him. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he breathed “I love you” and “Please don’t leave me” shakily on her skin over and over again.

By the time they’d arrived at the base and whisked Florence into surgery Sam had landed. He stalked over to Bucky, his wings still in the process of folding, and wrapped the super soldier in his arms.

Bucky shattered.

He didn’t think he’d cried that much or that hard since the night that Ayo had taken him into the Wakandan bush. His friend murmured platitudes in his ear and stroked his back, holding him as tight as he needed to feel grounded again. It was only when Bucky’s sobs finally subsided that Sam let him go, leading him over to some hard plastic chairs that were bolted to the floor.

Bucky slumped into one, his elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands, clutching at his hair in desperation.

“Why was she even there, Sam?” He asked weakly.

“I did some digging on the way over, called some people. Ren’s one of us, man. She’s an agent,” Sam said gently, leaning forwards to try and catch Bucky’s eye.

“I figured,” Bucky mumbled, his words almost slurring together, “but…but…how?!”

“Sleeper agent,” Sam tried to clarify. “Trained with SHIELD, and then reintegrated into society when it fell. Her job is legitimate, she is actually a qualified kindergarten teacher, but her backstory is…crafted and she’s called on when she’s needed for a job. Obviously this was one of those times,” Sam shrugged, looking almost as confused as Bucky.

"How the hell did I not know? For years?" Bucky muttered.

"She's still Ren, Buck." Sam said. "What you guys had was still real. You know how this works."

"She lied Sam." He glanced over at him, "she knew about me. Hell, she knows everything."

Sam let out a sigh as he leaned back into the chair, "and you know how SHIELD is."

"I just don't get why she couldn't tell me. What difference would it have made?"

Sam chuckled lowly and somehow Bucky knew exactly what he was going to say.

"You can't honestly tell me that if you knew she was an agent, you wouldn't have pulled some over-protective bullshit every time she was called up on a mission?"

"She's my wife, Sam. I made a promise to keep her safe. After everything, the least I can do is keep the love of my life safe. She had no back up in there, I would have seen them if she did."

"Head over heart, man," Sam murmured, "it's the core rule of this job."

Bucky huffed, eyes on the double doors that led to Florence. The waiting was unbearable, the longer he had to think, the worse his thoughts became.

"That's a fuckin' stupid rule," he muttered, pushing to his feet when the need to move, to do anything but sit still, took over.

Bucky stalked to the double doors leading to the ORs before turning back to Sam. "Why send us separately to the same target with separate missions though? It's hard enough to accept Ren's an agent but," his voice wavered. Shaking his head, he stalked past Sam and towards the external doors.

"Hey man, where are you going?" Sam called after him, "Bucky, stop, Ren needs you here." He chased after Bucky and, placing his hand on his shoulder, his friend stilled. "You need to be here, Bucky. Ren needs you."

"I need answers Sam, I could have gotten her killed by bursting in when I did. Someone's fucked up big time and I've got to find out who!"

Any further argument was lost as the doors opened before them and a doctor appeared. Both men eyed him warily and there was a moment of silence so profound that they could hear the subtle whir of the plates in Bucky’s arm as his fingers twisted nervously together.

“Doc?” He croaked, needing to know but not wanting to hear.

“Sergeant Barnes, your wife’s out of surgery. We cleaned up the wound and stopped the bleeding. We’re giving her medication for the pain and some additional blood but taken her off sedation. She should wake up soon.” He paused, seeing the incomprehension on Bucky’s face. “Your wife’s going to be ok, Sergeant.”

Bucky barely grunted his thanks before pushing through the doors behind the doctor in search of his wife.

His hand trembled against the door of her room, everyone seemed to disappear around him as he came to a halt. He could hear them talking to him, at him but none of it mattered. Ren was on the other side of that door and he wasn't sure he would ever be ready to face what condition she was in.

As the adrenaline settled and his thoughts started to slow down the guilt and grief seemed to flood in.

"Do you want me to go first?" Sam asked from his side, the only voice that cut through the static.

"No," Bucky shook his head and inhaled deeply before pushing the door open and wandering inside. The faint beeping of machines and the smell of cleaning solution clouded his senses. Florence lay in the middle of the tubes and machines, so still it made his heart constrict in his chest. He hated it. "Oh baby," He sunk down on the side of the bed and rested his head against her hand, taking a moment to forget about his anger and frustration and to just worry about her.

Sam slowly made his way around the bed and rubbed Bucky's back. "I'm sorry, man," he murmured softly. "But she'll make it. Florence is one heck of a tough girl."

Bucky raised his head and looked at her, she looked so small in that bed, and her face was so pale. Despite all the tubes and wires, the beeping of the monitors was kind of reassuring. "She has to put up with me," he responded, "but when she left the house this morning..." He gulped and shook his head again. "How did I miss this, Sam? Some fucking super soldier I am."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Buck," Sam replied quietly as he gave Bucky's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You good here? Or do you want me to stay for a while?"

Bucky heaved a sigh, eyes never straying from Florence as the thought about his answer. He reached across the bed to brush a stray hair from her face, fingertips lingering. She had more colour in her face now, cheeks warm and pink, but Bucky still found himself begging for movement -- a flicker of her eyelids, twitch of her mouth.

"I'm alright," he breathed after a moment. "Can you stick around the base though, as soon as she's fit for transport I wanna get her back to the compound and I want you travelling with us."

"Course, man. Give me a shout if you need me."

Bucky listened as the doors swung closed and the room fell into an eerie quiet save for the beeping of machines and Florence's steady breaths.

Reaching up carefully, he wrapped his hand around hers, tangling their fingers together. "What the hell were you doing there?" He whispered to her, knowing she wouldn't answer. At least not right now. Confusion and anger wrapped around his insides the longer he watched her sleep. A thousand unanswered questions plagued his mind and only caused more tiny little fractures in his heart.

It confused to no end why she didn't tell him, why she wasn't honest with him about this part of her life. His wife almost never lied to him— intentionally or not.

Didn't she trust him? Did she think this kind of a secret could be kept forever? What if—

The twitch of her hand in his cut off his destructive train of thought. Ren's eyes were flickering open and closed causing Bucky's heart to still as he willed her chocolate eyes to open and reassure him that she was okay. Her hand tightened only slightly around his fingers and her head turned slowly in his direction, the softest smile graced her lips as she settled again, eyes closed but her posture more peaceful.

"Just be okay," he whispered. Leaning in to pepper kisses on the hand cradled in his while tears stung his eyes.

"We'll figure out the rest."

Bucky sat in that room for hours, going back and forth on what he would say to her the moment she woke. The doctors came and went and his impatience grew with every passing second and annoying beep or question.

He wanted answers, he wanted his wife.

He didn't know what he wanted but he knew if Steve had been there he'd have the answer and that only made him more angry. He had moved on, he had worked so hard to find a person that could understand him the way Steve had and it felt like a lie. He knew better than to believe that, he trusted Florence with everything so short of her being assigned to him and their entire marriage being a ruse. Nothing she would say could convince him she didn't love him too. He had felt her love every single time she was near him. So patient and delicate as he worked through so much unforeseen trauma.

"Come back to me baby," he whispered from trembling, exhausted lips.

Time dragged and the monotonous beep became the background noise to his cheek pressed to Florence’s arm, resting his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dozing when he heard it, the soft croak of a voice he’d been dreaming of somewhere above him.

“Bu- Buck?”

Bucky snapped his head up.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured as Florence tried to speak again, her eyes fluttering open. “Shh. Shh, hang on, baby. Lemme get you some water.”

He propped her bed up a little before guiding the straw to her dry lips.

“I was shot,” she whispered once she was done. “Fuck.”

Bucky chuckled, cradling her cheek delicately and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, "You had me so worried, baby girl."

"Like I was hit by Mjolnir," she tried to smile weakly. She tried to lift her head but stopped, wincing and groaning.

"Stay still," Bucky admonished, "you almost died today." Florence closed her eyes and took a breath before looking at Bucky's hand on hers, she twisted her fingers to take his wedding ring and begin turning it.

"You weren't meant to find out this way, Buck. I never meant for this to happen."

He sucked into a breath and shook his head, his hand tightening in hers for a moment, "why didn't you tell me?"

Her eyes found his and his heart dropped seeing the hesitation in her features. Ren's lips parted to say something before all that came out was a breath.

"Please tell me."

He begged in a hushed tone, trying to have the patience to manage her fragile state while pushing away doubts and fears of his own.

"This was the first mission I've been put on since we got married, Buck. I thought.." her voice trailed off and she bit her lip nervously.

"I thought I was done with that part of my life. I told my superior that I was off the day we met, I didn't want to do that anymore." Ren continued, the words rushing out with the rising frustration clear in her eyes.

He didn't understand. Bucky's eyes were searching her own but there was nothing but sincerity and anguish as Florence delivered the final punch to the gut.

"We met while I was on an assignment, and I just.. quit. Or so I thought." She mumbled the last part as her fingers dug into his palm as if willing him to believe her.

"So why this case? Why lie?" Bucky searched for answers to help make sense of her explanation.

"It wasn't my choice," She moved uncomfortably, just trying to close the gaps between them. "I couldn't tell you and when they call," she stopped.

"You go." Bucky knew that well, there was always another war to fight, another bad guy to bring down. It never ended and someone always came looking for help. It's not that he didn't want to, but he was tired and looking at Florence he had thought he found his haven from that. Someone who would never need him in that way but now... "I'm not mad you," he said. "I know it seems like I am but," he rolled his fingers over her cheek. "Tell me and don't lie to me. Was I ever a mission?"

"No," she answered without hesitation. "Never. Not once, they never even tried to take that route. It's why I quit in the first place."

"It was never going to be easy for me, was it?" Bucky murmured sadly and Florence made a little wounded sound as she brought his hand to her lips. "Makes sense that I'd fall in love with someone whose seen just as much bloodshed as me."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Florence countered. Bucky let out a shaky breath. "C'mere." Bucky scooted closer as she pressed soft kisses to his knuckles before turning his hand and kissing his palm. With her eyes closed, her long eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks and she looked every bit the angel she is.

"I never wanted you to see that side of me, of my job, Ren. Not first hand, not like this."

"I don't care, Bucky. I've always known who you are and what you do and I married you anyway. And besides, it was my job too. I knew I could have handled anything you decided to show me."

"You may not care, but I care!" His voice raised and almost broke. He pulled his hand away as he stood, the chair flew back abruptly and came to rest against the wall. Ren winced at his raised voice but knew with confidence that he'd never hurt her.

Bucky had begun to pace the room. "You're my angel, it's my job to protect you, to keep you safe...." His hands fisted his hair, "My whole world relies on the normality and routine of our lives...." He looked at her for the first time since he stood up. "This blows everything I believed we had out of the water."

"I'm still me!" She yelled, "I'm still the woman you fell in love with and I'm still the woman who is in love with you James Barnes."

His face crumpled for a moment as he stared at her.

"Now I am not throwing years of marriage away because of this. *I am not going anywhere*." Her brows furrowed as those big brown eyes looked up at him. Those eyes he tripped in the first time he saw her. Stumbling over his words, his heart racing with every moment she spared him and that smile. God that smile lit up every dark corner of his mind the first time he saw it. "Are you?" Her voice cracked softly as they watched each other. Both expecting to make a decision.

Bucky let out a long drawn out breath and shook his head. "No."

A weak, teary laugh escaped her and Bucky's heart broke over the sound.

"Good. Because you're stuck with me," she announced. "One injured shoulder won't keep me away from you." She told him, trying to smile through the tension and tears pooling in her eyes.

He couldn't stay away from her any longer when she buried her face in her hands and started crying, the soft sniffling and hiccups coming from her had Bucky closer in a heartbeat, his arms enveloping the love of his life gently. Protectively.

"I'm telling them I'm out for good," Florence mumbled into his chest, her voice thick.

"Are you sure? I know you said--"

"Yes. Fuck, Bucky. I don't want to do this anymore. I wanted normal too, you know. I wanted to *be* your normal, your safe space. I want to keep coming home to you and telling you stupid stories about my kids, I want to keep having lazy weekends with you and late night grocery store runs."

Bucky laughed wetly, pressing a kiss into her hair, careful of her shoulder as he held her tighter.

"I want that too," he whispered, "just, no more secrets, sweetheart, I don't think my old heart could take it."

They sat quietly, as if counting their blessings, murmuring their wishes and promises for their lives moving forward, everything now out in the open.

They were interrupted by a rapping at the door and both of them turned as it opened. Sam poked his head through. "I was just checking in, Bucky..." he began. "Oh thank god you're awake, Ren, Bucky was out of his mind..."

"Is there any wonder?" Bucky retorted, turning back to Ren. "I thought I'd lost you for sure."

"I've told you, I'm not going anywhere, Buck. We're going to grow old together," Florence smiled, moving to sit up. "Ooh that fucking smarts."

"I'm sure you're due some more pain relief by now," Sam responded. "Let me go find the doc to sort you out, and start arranging for the airlift home."

Bucky watched Sam leave before turning back to Ren. A soft grin spread across her face as her fingers traced along the edges of his scruffy face. "You know, seeing you in action was pretty hot." She said lowly.

He laughed and shook his head. "Me? What was that outfit you were wearing and why the hell have I not seen you in it?"

"That old thing?" She whispered, "was cheap and not my style."

Bucky leaned down, bringing her hand to his lips kissing the inside of her wrist, "Could it?"

Florence raised a brow at him with a smirk.

"I mean when you're healed." He clarified, "You aren't doing anything for the next few weeks except bed rest."

"It's a shoulder wound." Florence laughed at him.

"And you are my wife." Bucky countered, "Which means I get to dote on you until you're better."

Her hand curled around the back of his neck, tangling in the short hairs there, "I could get used to that."

"Good." He said as he leaned into her, whispering against her lips before kissing her for the first time since he left home that morning, letting the monotonous beeping and horror of the day disappear until all that was left was them.

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thesugarclubs-blog · 2 months

Text

Good Boys - Steve Rogers x OC x Thor Odinson

warnings: frat boy steve and thor, college au, threesome, 18+, minors DNI

word count: 6.4k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1426294030-good-boys-cat

vibe: "My my, you two are good boys after all," She teased. Steve and Thor both blushed pink.

"Good boys?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Masterlist

Cat stared up at the enormous brick building. Mostly in awe of the scale of it but partly in fear at what it meant. Growing up, moving out, starting college. It was her bucket list but now that she was here, it was like she was frozen in place.

The cool February air nipped at her arms and she cursed herself for not bringing a sweater but she also hadn’t expected to get lost. She had studied the campus map five times before she had left her dorms and she still ended up turned around like an idiot.

The campus was busy, people moved to and from class so quickly that she couldn’t get the words out before they were passing her by and she was starting to get frustrated. She wasn’t the friendliest looking person, she understood that. In her dark ripped jeans, and worn out maroon band shirt that she had thrifted for three dollars. It’s not that she stood out, most of the students around her were eclectic to say the least, but she couldn’t seem to force the frustrated scowl from her lips long enough to make a friend.

Cat’s head snapped forward as a ball hit her from behind, knocking her binders out of her hands and onto the campus lawn. “What the hell?” She rubbed the spot that was hit and turned to slowly to see two men jogging toward.

They shoved each other back and forth, laughing and yelling as they approached. Both large, muscular and blonde, at first glance she thought them related but as they got closer she could see the difference between them was striking.

“I am so sorry.” The first man put both hands out toward her and dropped his shoulders to look in her eyes. Blue sparkled across the gap at her, feathery blonde strands of hair brushed across his forehead and a boyish smile crept onto his face. “Are you okay?” He asked. His shoulders and biceps barely fit in the red college t-shirt he wore and Cat was starting to rethink her stance on athletes.

“I was,” she lied with a grimace, probing tenderly at the sore spot on the back of her head.

“Let me see?” the stranger asked but didn’t wait for a response as he gripped the top of her arms and spun her around.

She couldn’t even find the words to protest as surprisingly gentle fingers sifted through her hair.

“Thor, you’re an idiot,” he grumbled to the other blond, who had dropped to his knees and was busily gathering up Cat’s spilled binders.

“It was your throw, Steve,” Thor protested. “It was miles off. No-one could’ve caught that.”

Turning his head to meet Cat’s baleful stare he gave her a toothy grin that was so charming it almost made her smile right back. Almost.

"Well, Steve. Thor. Thanks for the knock to the head but I gotta get to my orientation so..." Cat shifted her eyes down to her binders in Thor's hands and he gave them up with a wink. His light blonde hair fell across his eyes and he played it cool, blowing the strands away.

Cat was about to turn back towards the campus, figure out where she needed to be when Steve stopped her in her tracks.

"You need someone to show you around?"

"I'm sure you guys have more *pressing* things to get to," She said pointedly, eye flicking to the ball still laying on the grass and back to them.

Steve kicked the pigskin behind their legs with his hands tucked behind his back. Sending a cheeky smile her way, "No, no we don't. Clear schedule, right Thor?"

He finished, jutting his elbow out against his friend's arm.

"Totally clear. Let us make it up to you, please?" The blonde tucked a rogue strand of hair behind his ear pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he batted his eyelashes at her playfully.

Cat looked between the two men for a few moments. As much as it pained her, she really didn’t know where the hell she needed to go.

She sighed softly and nodded. “Sure. You can show me around.”

Thor clapped his hands together loudly and Steve put his hands on his hips, "we can be very convincing," Thor added.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Cat inhaled nervously.

"I'll take those back," Thor extended his hand to the binders and Cat shook her head.

"I can carry my own binders, big guy." She said, her lips pressed into a thin line but Thor just continued to wiggle his massive hand at her.

"What if you have a concussion from the ball?" He said with a smile, "any extra stress on your body could cause you to faint and we wouldn't want that!"

"Do you often talk yourself in circles, or are girls here into the whole rambling, overgrown, rambunctious surfer act?" Cat narrowed her eyes at him and Steve leaned back howling with laughter and clutching his chest.

Thor’s brows drew down in a frown of concentration and Cat’s amusement grew as she watched his lips subtly form shapes that looked suspiciously like the word rambunctious before his bright grin reappeared and he nodded enthusiastically.

“I like circles!” He exclaimed, “but I only go surfing in the summer, when we go to the beach. You should come! We’d have a great time.”

“That’s not-“ Steve began, exasperated, “you know what, big guy? Never mind.”

He slapped Thor on the shoulder and moved to Cat’s other side. Both boys offered her their elbows and, completely bamboozled by the pair of them, she could think of nothing else to do except link her arms through theirs.

This was not how she was expecting her first day to start.

"So where are you from, uh..." Steve asked as they made their way across the quad.

"Cat," she offered, "and Ohio, originally. I've moved a lot."

"I like Ohio," Thor piped up enthusiastically on her other side and she turned to see him beaming down at her. There was nothing behind his sweet, sweet blue eyes.

"Thanks," she laughed, "I like it too."

She looked at both of them, focus mostly on her as their blue eyes glinted under the sunlight. Heat creeped up her neck at the smiles each sent her way and she cleared her throat before she settled her eyes back on the walk ahead of them.

"So, you two? It's football and-?"

"Journalism and Sports Ed, respectively." Steve answered for the both of them.

Cat hummed in acknowledgement feeling a slight tug on her arm from the blonde to her left looking for an answer from her as well.

"Oh um, English Lit."

“Are you wanting to become a teacher? Or author?” Steve asked curiously.

Cat shrugged her shoulders as they walked up the main steps of the campus. “I haven’t decided.”

"Wunderdust," Thor said confidently. "Cool"

"It's wanderlust," Steve corrected him. "Sometimes being undecided is a blessing, gives you time to explore your options."

"I really like poetry but the likelihood of it becoming a career is low," She said.

"They have poems in the paper," Steve shrugged, "the one last week was good. I have it pinned up in my room."

Cat's eyes drifted to his and considered the soft omission for a second before offering a smile to him. "Do you really?"

"I don't know why I would lie about it," Steve gave her a smirk to hold on to.

"You just don't seem the type," Cat said, honestly neither of them seemed to be much more than biceps and pretty faces.

"Don't judge a book by the cover," Thor quipped.

Steve laughed and gave him a rub to the top of the head, messing up his blond hair, "good job bud."

Steve clutched his free hand to his chest and whined in feigned hurt, "Tour for now then, I'll change your mind though. I promise ya." He finished with a wink.

"We'll see about that," Cat teased.

Thor mocked the sounds of entrance fanfare horns with pursed lips as they approached a tall brick building eclipsing the sunlight coming from the other side of campus.

"We have arrived, m'lady." He smiled, gesturing wildly to the building in front of them as they came to a halt.

She laughed and shook her head at him, thanking them softly as she slipped her hands from each of their arms.

"Wait," Thor voiced, his fingers brushing hers as held her left hand in place.

Cat raised a brow at the two wondering what they could possibly be thinking now.

"Can we take you to lunch after your orientation?" He asked bashfully.

"On us, for the inconvenience." Steve added with a smile.

Cat’s eyes widened. “You… you really want to take me to lunch?”

“Anywhere you wanna go,” Thor beamed.

“Scout’s honor,” Steve added.

Cat had it in her right mind to refuse them but the smiles on their faces seemed to crack through her mean girl exterior. "Information said it would be an hour, you think you're okay waiting that long, hopefully the guide isn't chatty."

"We're patient men," Steve winked at her.

"We can wait our turn," Thor added in a serious tone as he backed up to a bench a few feet from her and leaned back against it, never breaking eye contact with her.

"Okay," I nodded, "Deal, you don't have to like sit and wait though," She looked around as she backed toward the doors. But neither of them budged from their spots.

"Alrighty," Cat murmured, "I'll meet you back out here, I guess."

Thor nodded, making himself comfortable while Steve sent her a lazy salute as he moved to join Thor on the bench. They were something else, the two of them squished together all muscles on muscles as they both fought to fit.

"Have fun," Steve called as Cat headed inside, "but not too much fun."

"Roger that," she replied and for some reason, Thor burst into giggles.

Orientation was nice, gave Cat a sense of belonging and something to look forward to after having to move in the middle of the school year. Despite all the excitement and hope that ran through her body, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't itching to go back outside to the two knuckleheads waiting for her. Nobody had been capable of breaking her resolve like they had in a matter of minutes and it infuriated her just as much as it filled her with butterflies.

Once the guide sent them off, she collected her binders, books and swung her bag over her shoulder as she stood making her way out the room and towards the bench she had left the boys.

As soon as she pushed the doors open, they stood as if on command with wide smiles.

"My my, you two are good boys after all," She teased.

Steve and Thor both blushed pink. “Good boys?” Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cat raised a brow curiously. “Mhmm. Good boys.”

This lit a fire beneath the two of them as they came to stand on either side. "You owe me lunch," she smiled up at the two of them. "Where to?"

Thor looked at Steve, and mischief danced over their handsome features, "now hear us out before you shoot us down." Steve lowered his voice and leaned into Cat, his shoulder brushing against hers. "The frat house."

"You're taking me to a frat house for lunch, is that supposed to be a joke?" Cat raised an eyebrow at him, slightly confused but just a little curious. The breeze played with the loose strand of his hair and from his distance she could count the rogue freckles that painted his skin.

"It's got the best grilled cheese on campus," Thor said, trying to convince her.

"Don't you trust your Good boys?" Steve whispered, eyes darting across her face to her lips. "Have we steered you wrong yet?"

"You did hit me with a football," Cat stumbled over her words, heat licking at the back of her neck. "That grilled cheese better be worth it."

“Oh, it will be,” Steve purred, guiding her gently towards the left-hand path with a subtle hand on the small of her back.

Thor retrieved her binders from her once again and Cat found her hand enveloped by a meaty paw. Thor grinned brightly at her as he swung their arms to the rhythm of their steps and Cat huffed out a chuckle despite herself.

They continued along the path and across the quad and Cat’s skin sparked with the proximity of the two men. Steve didn’t move his hand from her back and she leaned into him slightly, enjoying the sensation.

“Steve?” She heard Thor whisper through his teeth. “We have cheese, right?”

“Yeah, pal,” Steve whispered back, his other hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “we got cheese.”

“Good, that’s good,” Thor nodded, reassured, and then he turned to Cat. “Steve’s a great cook,” he said.

“I’m sure he is,” she smiled, her nose scrunching with growing affection and not a small amount of desire as Steve’s fingers tightened at her waist. “What’s your talent?”

“I could probably lift you with one hand,” Thor supplied with a shrug as he stopped walking and looked down at Cat expectantly. “You wanna try?”

“Right here?” She raised an eyebrow incredulously and Steve chuckled behind her, his fingers slipping from her back.

“Go on, Kitty Cat, let the big oaf show off a little,” he urged, gently nudging her towards Thor who happily passed Cat’s binders over to Steve and swooped in, lifting her from the ground with absolutely no warning whatsoever.

Cat yelped as Thor settled a hand on her ass and lifted, his bicep bulging ridiculously.

“Thor!” She squeaked as Thor held her easily just above his shoulder. She did her best to balance, not wanting to tumble to the sidewalk.

His strong fingers dug into her skin and she probably turned three different shades of pink as students turned to gawk at the commotion.

"Okay," she laughed, "that's pretty impressive, please put me down before you drop me."

Thor huffed, his arm pushing upward she lifted into the air with a squeak before he pulled her down against his chest with his arm around her waist, "I'd never drop a lady," his mouth hovered near hers and suddenly Cat wasn't so cold.

"That was a good party trick," Cat whispered, choking down the heat that rose on her cheeks as Thor slowly lowered her to the ground until her toes came in contact with the cement.

“It’s not a trick, you know. I’m just really strong,” Thor said with all seriousness, his voice rumbling through his broad chest as he flexed his bicep.

Cat couldn’t resist sliding her hand up to try and circle his arm but she failed and had to settle for giving the generous muscle a tight squeeze.

“Oh, he’s magic in other ways,” Steve teased, sliding his arm back around her waist, while Thor’s curled around her from the other side.

“I-I’m sure he is…” Cat stammered, her cheeks flushing at the heat in Steve’s intense gaze.

“Are you blushing, Kitty Cat?” He teased.

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, the redness deepening even more.

“A little,” Thor hummed, “but don’t worry, it looks good on you.”

"Thanks," she breathed, the warmth of her cheeks spreading further between the two boys.

"You're most welcome," Thor grinned, squeezing her waist, "come on, it's not much further."

Cat let them lead her the rest of the way to their frat house. Between casual conversation and flirty comments, she found herself almost squashed between them by the time they arrived.

"Get ready for the best grilled cheese you've ever tasted," Thor announced as he opened the door and gestured for Cat to head in first.

"If you're lucky, we might even treat you to dessert," Steve added from his position close behind her, his voice low as he kept a hand on her back and guided her further into the house.

They led her up to the counter, pulling out a stool for her before moving into the kitchen. Cat felt like her entire body had ignited with the heat creeping up from her toes at Steve’s words. These two, these two we’re gonna be the death of her and though a small part of her was hesitant she was aching to find out what they could do to her, with her.

“What exactly are you two offering up for dessert?” She questioned, her eyes flicking between the two of them as they worked in tandem.

The boys looked at each other and quickly looked back at her, tender smiles gracing their lips as they eyed her curiously.

“Whatever you want,” Steve voiced.

“Your wish is our command,” Thor added with a wink.

“Anything I want?” Cat questioned. “That’s… awful bold of you two.” She watched as Steve put butter on a hot skillet then placed the sandwich in the melting butter.

“We’re bold men,” Steve replied, flashing her a lopsided grin as he slid a can of soda across the counter top. Cat smiled in thanks, eyes trained on Steve’s back as he turned to the stove again. His muscles tensed, rippling beneath his t-shirt as he flipped the grilled cheese and a fresh sizzle came from the skillet.

She dragged her gaze away briefly, only to see Thor watching her with a smirk and a knowing tilt of his head.

“So…” she began, flipping the tab on her drink, “what do you do when you’re not playing football? Or inviting new students to your house for grilled cheese.”

"Not everyone just gets an invitation for grilled cheese," Steve laughed, "these are special."

"What makes them special?" I asked.

"It's the only thing he can cook, so..." Thor shrugged and Cat slid herself up on the counter and took a slip of the soda. "It's extra special."

"Be careful, you might get addicted," Steve slid the warm grilled cheese out onto the plate and cut it in half for her, blowing on the hot cheese before handing her a slice. "It's hot," he warns.

Cat chuckled as she watched the steam rise from the grilled cheese. She didn’t know if it was their charm or if it was their kindness, but she felt gravitated to them both.

Being careful, Cat lifted one half and blew on the hot sandwich before taking a bite.

And okay, maybe it was the best grilled cheese she’d ever eaten.

Cat groaned as her teeth sunk into the melty cheese and it oozed out the sides.

“Are there pickles in this?” She asked suddenly, not remembering seeing Steve chop the tiny green chunks she can see now she’s taken a bite. As she took another mouthful, Steve grinned, winking slyly and tapping the side of his nose.

The sandwich was gone in a matter of minutes, and Cat pushed the plate away with a satisfied hum.

“That was incredible, Steve. Thank you.”

"You're more than welcome," he winked.

"It was a pleasure to watch you eat it," Thor leaned across the counter and Steve tossed him a look. "What? It was" He shrugged with a goofy grin on his face.

"At least he's honest," Cat laughed, "you just quietly ogled me while I was chewing away."

"I did not," Steve blushed, turning his face away from her.

"Be honest," Cat quipped, leaning forward into his space.

"Okay, maybe it was cute," he smiled back at her, "especially that first bite, that little noise you made." He whispered, mischief glimmering in those ocean blue eyes.

“The little noise I made?” She grinned. “What little noise would that be?”

“I think you know what sound,” Thor smirked.

“Kinda sounded like this,” Steve murmured, stepping closer and let out a soft moan, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“Jesus,” she whispered, her head reeling at the sensation.

Reaching out blindly with one hand in an effort to steady herself, Cat’s hand came into contact with the broad warmth of Thor’s chest and she wound her fingers into the fabric of his shirt.

“Is that the play you wanna make, kitten?” He rumbled, stepping closer to her, his hand resting delicately on her thigh.

“When in Rome,” she gasped as Steve ran his nose along the delicate skin behind her ear. “I want the full college experience.”

The boys smiled, desire clear in their eyes as they both took her in.

Thor brought a hand up and tilted her chin upwards, their lips just barely touching. Cat's breath hitched in her throat, her toes curled as the fire in her belly blazed.

"Your wish," He began pressing a light peck on her lips, "is our command." he smiled against her lips before licking a stripe along her bottom lip and tugging it between his.

Cat couldn’t stop from whimpering as she swiped her tongue out across Thor’s upper lip. She could feel Steve’s lips against her neck, making her body tingle.

“Should we move to somewhere more comfortable, kitty cat?” Steve purred.

Before she could even squeak in response, Thor pulled her up over his shoulder. She yipped as his hand raked up her thigh and over her ass to hold her in place as he walked down the hall of the quiet frat house. Steve followed closely behind with a twinkle in his eye as Thor opened a door on his left.

"Time for dessert," Steve whispered, cupping her face in his hand as he passed her form, slung over Thor. His tongue flicked into her mouth and she could feel him smile against her lips as his grip loosened and he entered a crowded, messily decorated room.

Thor deposited her gently on top of a navy striped comforter and she bounced on the mattress a little before coming to a stop. Cat found herself gazing up at two burly men who looked starved for something that definitely wasn’t a grilled cheese.

A confident smile bloomed across her face even as her cheeks flushed with the heat of desire and she shuffled backwards a little, beckoning to them.

“Are you gonna stand there all night or are you gonna join me?” She asked.

Steve moved first, kneeling up on the bed and pulling his shirt from his body in one swift movement.

“Holy…” Cat almost whistled as she let her gaze wander Steve’s torso. She lingered on his pecs, his skin simultaneously toned and soft and asking to be touched.

Before she could reach out, Steve was on all fours, crawling over her with a devilish grin.

“Hi,” he purred as he dipped his head to kiss her, mouth hot and heavy over hers.

“Hi,” Cat whispered against his lips just as the mattress dipped and Thor joined them, shedding his own shirt as he met them in the middle of the bed.

Steve's hands found their way beneath her shirt as their tongues danced. Fingers dragging along her stomach leaving tiny fireworks in their wake as he tickled the skin right beneath her bra teasingly.

She felt like her senses were going haywire as she felt Thor's hands tenderly grab her ankles as he rid her from her shoes and raked his hands over her clothed legs.

Steve's lips kissed their way to her ear, breath hot and heavy as he spoke, "Can we undress you kitten, please?"

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly. “Don’t stop now… please…”

Steve grinned as he pecked her lips, knowing that Thor was beginning to work on the button and zipper of her jeans.

Thor's fingers curled against the hem of her jeans, sliding them down over her hips and disposing of them easily. Steve palmed her breast over the fabric of her bra, his fingers teasing at her pebbled nipple. Thor kissed a tender line of warm kisses up her calf, taking his time not to miss an inch of skin on his way.

"You're so soft," Thor mumbled against her skin.

"And you taste so sweet," Steve added, nibbling at her ear.

Cat whimpered softly, breath hitching in her throat as Thor reached her inner thigh and his teeth grazed the soft skin there, sinking in just enough to send a pleasurable spark through her body.

"Like all the best desserts rolled into one," he agreed, tongue swirling out over the spot his teeth had just been, soothing the bite.

As Thor worked his mouth over the crease of her thigh, Steve moved from her ear to her neck, sucking and kissing his way to her collar bone. His kisses, lazy and warm, travelled down over her chest before he mouthed at her sheer bra, taking her nipple between his lips and humming in delight.

Cat was so sure she was going to combust.

"You make such pretty sounds, kitty cat. " Steve murmured against her breast. "Let's take this off now."

She arched her back into his touch, his fingers quickly popped her bra clasp open as he threw it across the room haphazardly before dipping his face between her breasts. He left a trail of wet kisses between them as he rolled one nipple between his fingers while he swirled his tongue along the other.

Her gasps filled the room as she wiggled beneath the hands of the two of them, eagerly lapping at her body like they had been starving for her.

Cat hissed as Thor's finger found her underwear pushing it aside as he blew a breath to her core. "So wet for us already, sweet thing." He mused before licking a stripe between her folds.

“Oh my god,” Cat moaned as she arched off the bed.

Thor groaned as he licked her again. “So sweet…” He lifted up to see Steve reaching to unbutton his pants, prompting him to do the same.

Both men drew back, tugging their jeans down their thighs -- both so ridiculously thick, Cat wanted to get her mouth on them too -- and shucked them off the bed. They landed on the floor with a soft thud, scattered around the room with the rest of their clothes.

"Where do you want us, sweetheart?" Steve asked, his large palm splayed over her belly as he moved in to kiss her again. He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging it gently before letting it go with a pop.

"I...uh. Fuck," she breathed, head already fuzzy.

"Cat, you good?" Thor prompted, sitting back on his heels with his brow furrowed. Two sets of blue eyes watched her warily.

"Yeah, yeah. Just not how I saw today going," she chuckled.

Both men crowded her senses in the best way possible, hands on skin as she collected her thoughts and leaned into the rhythm of her racing heart. Her hands reached out, palming Steve, feeling his size and groaning with excitement. Steve didn't fit in her hand and her fingers barely wrapped the expanse of his erection. Thor kissed her, his hand eclipsing her throat and taking all the air from her lungs as she pumped down the shaft deliciously slow, feeling every inch of him beneath her touch.

A throaty moan ripped from Steve as she worked him, Thor unbothered by the lack of attention he was receiving as he pulled back to watch the show. His smile was bright as he paused a moment longer and dove back to her lips, his cock pressing tightly against her thigh.

God I want both of them. I need both of them, she thought. She pulled slightly away from Thor before turning her lips towards Steve kissing him, her free hand blindly reaching to cup Thor, moaning, as he was just as big as Steve.

Thor let out a soft grunt as she worked him over his boxers before feeling for the waistband and tugging them down too, taking his cock in her hand properly. The soft grunt turned into a deep groan and Cat pulled away from Steve's lips, flashing Thor a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

"Can I put my mouth on you, Thor?" She asked, fluttering her eyelashes demurely.

"Fuck. Please," Thor gritted out as Cat slid her hand over his length, thumb catching a drop of pre-cum and dragging it over his the soft skin.

"Want me to make you feel good too, kitten?" Steve murmured, breath hot on the back of her neck as he tucked a finger into her panties. "Wanna know just how sweet you taste."

Cat nodded before slipping her lips over Thor's tip and taking him into her mouth. His hips bucked against the sensation as his hand looped into her hair and eased himself deeper down her throat. Steve whispered dark praises against her skin as his tongue darted across her thighs, teasing her slowly before finally sucking her clit tenderly.

Cat trembled against the motion, her body out of control as she pumped down Thor's hard length, tears pricking at her eyes

“Such a good kitty,” Steve praised. “Enjoying my best friend’s cock like that.” He licked and sucked at her clit before dipping his tongue inside her.

Meanwhile Cat gripped at Thor’s thighs as she continued to take Thor’s cock deeper down her throat.

Her body was on fire, a myriad of sensations all fighting over one another. The heat of Steve’s mouth on her, the roughness of his college boy scruff on her thighs as he sucked and licked like a man on a mission, coaxed out choked moans around Thor’s cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart. The sounds you’re making,” Thor panted, fingers sliding further into Cat’s hair as she drew back from his length just slightly.

“You wanna slick me up?” Steve asked, and it took Cat a second to realise he was talking to Thor as he held his fingers out, wiggling them with pouty lips until the other man sucked them into his mouth.

Cat moaned around Thor's length at the sight of him cleaning her off of Steve. Dark blue eyes flicked to hers with a wolfish grin, Steve pressed a kiss on her clit forcing her hips to push against his lips.

When he pulled back suddenly her eyes widened as Thor pushed deeper, his tip hitting the back of her throat. "So sweet." Thor said, licking his lips.

"Such pretty noises." Steve cooed. She moaned around Thor at the praise forcing him to groan with his own pleasure at the vibration it created around his cock.

"She's so warm," Thor mumbled, curling his fingers into her hair, "warm and soft."

Steve's eyes lit up as he sat back on his haunches, watching the two of them for a moment. Cat's eyes glued to his. "Can I feel Kitty Cat?" He rasped, tapping Thor out of the way. She released Thor with a soft pop and nodded, her heart feeling like it was going to burst from her chest as the two traded places.

Steve rubbed himself against her bottom lip, leaking from the tip it was salty on her tongue and she craved more instantly. She pressed up onto her knees, taking him into her mouth she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard against his shaft. Steve's body tensed around her, his thighs flexing tightly in response to her teeth gently dragging down him.

"She takes you so well," Thor praised, "let's see how well she can focus."

Before she had time to question his motives, Thor laid across the bed and wrapped two strong hands around her thighs pulling her down onto his face and plunging his tongue deep inside of her. Her thighs clenched around his face and a soft chuckle fanned over her pussy and sent a tickle of pleasure coursing through her veins.

Cat squeaked around Steve’s cock, gripping his thighs tightly, leaving little half moons with her nails.

It didn’t take long though, for Cat to get in rhythm. She bobbed her head, sucking on Steve deeply while beginning to rock her hips and ride Thor’s face.

She could feel herself teetering on the edge. The knot of arousal in her belly was being pulled tighter and tighter with each shuddering breath from Steve as she took him deeper, wrapping her hand around what she couldn’t fit as he met her rhythm with gentle thrusts of his hips.

It didn’t help that Thor was being an absolute tease with his mouth, giving her everything and then retreating with delicate little kitten licks to her clit until she was babbling around Steve’s cock, gagging when Thor finally listened and picked up the pace with his tongue again.

“Easy, kitten,” Steve murmured, cupping her cheek and wiping her drying tears with the pad of his thumb. He pulled out a little, resting the head of his cock on her bottom lip as she heaved in a breath and a string of spit and slick dripped from her mouth.

Steve teased her lips with the head of his cock as moan after moan dripped from her lips from Thor's torment. "Do you need to come?" He said so quietly and with a rasp that sent chills down her spine and straight to her core. Cat's entire body felt like it was on fire as her eyes met his and she nodded. Steve chuckled lowly, "need to hear you say it Cat."

"I need to come." She breathed, choking back another moan. Thor's grip on her thighs tightened and Steve's grin was back as he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers.

"Then open for me and you can come." He whispered before pulling back. The cord in her stomach snapped and her hands braced on Steve's thighs with her lips parted. He pushed in between them, careful not to hurt her, he groaned as her tongue grazed the underside of his cock. Her body shuddered with release. Her clit sensitive from the lashing Thor's tongue gave it she tried to lift herself off but a grunt of protest and Thor tugging her back down to him halted that thought. Again she fell over the edge, choking around Steve as she tried to catch her breath. "That's our girl," Steve moaned, rocking his hips at a leisurely pace.

Steve rubbed at her throat, loosening her muscles as she opened her mouth wider and pumped faster. "Can I?" he asked and she moaned against him, pulling him close as Thor worked her through the last of the waves. Her orgasm melted down through her toes as Steve urged his own forward.

"Take it all Kitten," Thor shifted, holding her hair out of her face and kissing the fresh tears that streamed down her cheeks, "swallow everything and then I'll fill you with more."

Cat's eyes rolled back as Steve's hips jerked, feeling him release into the back of her throat. He groaned, his head falling back and his hips slowing before he pulled from her lips. As soon as he let her go, his fingers cupped her chin those blue eyes finding hers as she swallowed him. Steve grinned and pulled her forward, smashing his lips to hers in a heated kiss. "Good girl." He rasped against her mouth before letting her go and leaning back against the headboard, his thick legs spread open for her. "Come here."

Cat followed his directions, slotting herself between his legs so her back was to his chest as he held her. Steve brushed her hair over her shoulder as Thor positioned himself in front of her. His lips brushed her ear as she looked up at the tall blonde through heavy lids. "Open those pretty lips for him Kitten," he purred against the shell of her ear.

She smirked, licking her lips before parting them as Thor ran the tip of his cock along her bottom one. "Eager," he teased before rocking his hips forward.

Cat moaned as she rested one hand on Thor’s hip, letting him surge forward, pumping his hips.

Thor wound one hand through her hair as his head fell back in pleasure. “Fuck, Cat… so warm and open for me.”

Cat reveled in the warm feeling that engulfed her as Thor's cock pressed against the hollow of her mouth, rolling back until he was knocking against the back of her throat and she was fighting with her gag reflex. Tears stung at her eyes as he started to pump faster, rougher and sloppier. Steve nipped at the soft flesh of her breasts, rolling her nipples between his teeth and sending sharp pangs of pain ripping through her.

"That's our girl," he mumbled praises, "do you still like your dessert?"

Cat nodded, tears streaming down her hot cheeks as Thor's fingers knotted tightly into her hair, tugging her chin up and opening her further.

Within moments Thor sputtered down her throat, moaning as he came. Cat swallowed against him, breathing through her nose as much as she could before she fell back against Steve's chest, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Thor collapsed next to them, pulling Cat from Steve's arms to settle her between the two men. At this point she was putty to them, immovable on her own but pliable for them. Fingers gently raked through her hair as others trailed along her skin. Just the soft sounds of their breathing filled the room.

"Are you okay?" Thor asked softly, curling his fingers around her cheek as his thumb brushed her cheek bone.

Cat let out a soft laugh and turned to look at him, "More than." She whispered.

“That’s good,” Steve said softly. He kissed her cheek, resting one hand on her stomach. “I hope your tour was satisfactory.”

“Very,” Cat agreed, feeling absolutely boneless between both hulking men. “I also think that it’s something we will be repeating.”

"Next time," Steve nuzzled into her side.

"Next time?" Cat raised an eyebrow.

"We take our time," he finished, "there's so much more to explore," he purred in her ear.

"You really are good boys," Cat whispered, and snuggled down between them. "Really good boys."

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thesugarclubs-blog · 2 months

Text

Be Mine - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: speed dating, strangers to lovers, heavy petty, valentines day special

word count: 5.6k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1424350312-be-mine-hazel

vibe: “Not enough to scare you I hope,” Hazel voiced, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she studied him fingers tapping the base of her glass.

“Quite the opposite,” he declared his hand inching closer to where she had rested her free arm on the back of the sofa.

“Good, I think we’d balance each other out perfectly,” she mused, her hand meeting him halfway like she had read his mind just as she took a sip of her wine.

Masterlist

“Bucky Barnes, man you’re lookin’ good,” Sam drawled, a sly smile creeping its way across his face.

“Shut up,” Bucky mumbled, nervously running his hand over the long scruff on his cheeks.

He hunched his shoulders and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, desperately trying to make his large frame look less intimidating. Dropping his head, he stared at the toe of his boot as he scuffed it along the wooden floor of his apartment.

“Don’t know why the hell I let you talk me into this,” he added, his brows drawing down into a petulant scowl.

“‘Cause I’m your friend and you love me,” Sam replied sweetly, throwing his arm around Bucky and drawing the reluctant super soldier tightly against him. “You gotta get back out there, charm those ladies like it’s 1942.”

“Friends don’t put each other into situations like this,” Bucky grumbled, his jaw clenching tightly as he glared at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

“Quit being a toddler. You’re acting like we’re gonna fight someone. It’s not Madripoor, or Seoul, or that time in Belize…”

“I’d rather be back in Belize.”

Sam threw his head back with a cackle and slapped his hand between Bucky’s shoulders. “Whatever, big guy, come on. We don’t wanna be late.”

Bucky spent the whole subway ride with a scowl etched onto his face, deepening every time he caught a glimpse of Sam’s grin in his peripherals.

The annoying part of this was, the longer he’d been friends with the guy, the more that grin wore him down.

“Stop it.”

“I ain’t doin’ anything, man. You stop it.”

Sam’s toothy smile grew two times wider and he nudged Bucky’s shoulder as they shuffled off the train at Prince Street Station.

“This thing would be in Soho,” Bucky muttered, following Sam out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey! No more complaining. For all you know you might meet a nice girl or guy… or alien I guess, it is 2024, and then you’ll be thanking me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Sam. Sure, Sam. Just run my life for me, Sam.”

“Someone’s gotta,” Sam replied just as they stopped outside a coffee shop. Bucky eyed the big A-frame sign advertising the Valentine’s speed dating event and sucked in a breath.

Here goes nothing.

The sound in there alone was enough to have him turning tail but Sam caught his arm when he made an attempt and gave him a stern look that rang out loud and clear, stay put soldier, that's an order.

Bucky watched as a herd of women fixed their dresses and shirts, chatting politely with the people next to them and sipping on drinks as men lurked in corners, with wide eyes scanning the crowd as they downed beers in feeble attempts to find their courage. Bucky wanted to melt into the wall with them but Sam tugged him toward an empty high table and had the waitress grab them drinks before they even settled in.

An eclectic looking woman in a bright green patterned dress and thick brimmed purple glasses stepped up on the tiny, open mic stage in the corner and tapped the mic loudly to get everyone's attention. The coffee shop dulled to a murmur as she started to explain how the speed dating would work.

Her nasal whine drilled into Bucky’s brain and he downed the remains of his beer, wishing for all the world that the burn of the alcohol would actually stick this time. He was struggling to form a coherent thought so he had no idea how he’d manage to hold a half-decent conversation. As if someone had heard his desperate pleas, Miss Green Dress came unknowingly to his rescue.

“We know it can be intimidating sometimes, to answer questions from strangers,” she droned, “so make sure you pick up one of our handy yes/no paddles before the first bell rings.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up and he began to move towards the table that held the paddles but Sam’s hand on his elbow stopped him.

“Wait a second, tin man, there’s no way you’re getting out of communicating with real life people.”

"If the lady says to grab a paddle, I'm gonna grab a paddle," Bucky countered, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Sam down as if to say what are you gonna do about it?

"Just promise me you'll actually talk to these people, and I mean talk, Barnes. None of the weird little cyborg grunts I've learnt how to interpret."

On instinct, Bucky flexed and curled the fingers of his left hand. The leather of his glove creaked quietly as it stretched and Bucky sighed. One glance of the Vibranium and his dates were bound to hop out of their seats like their asses were on fire.

"If you don't want them to see, you don't have to show them," Sam said. He was speaking in his counselor voice and Bucky hated that Sam could read him like a book.

Bucky sighed softly as he looked around the room again. “They’ll either run or ask me a bunch of questions that I’ll never be able to answer.”

Sam smirked and gently nudged his friend. “You have a bit of a following, you know.”

Bucky only grumbled. “That’s what worries me.”

“I’ve seen some of those messages you get, man those people are crazy,” Sam continued, but his teasing was softened by the sympathetic look in his eyes. “Just…give it a shot and if you really need to get out of here we will, ok?”

Bucky let out a world-weary sigh. “OK.”

“Atta boy, come on, let’s go.” Sam handed him another beer and tilted his head towards the line of tables, where a plethora of women were starting to take their seats.

"Remember, if you are sitting facing the coffee bar, you'll be staying in your seats. If you're facing away, you'll be moving on the ring of the bell," the woman called out loudly, making Bucky wince as he found his seat; James Barnes printed on a little card already thanks to Sam signing them up a week earlier.

The tables were decorated for the event; pink checked table cloths and tiny pink paper hearts scattered across the top. Between him and his first partner, a petite brunette woman with thick bangs and a nose stud, sat a small vase with a single rose. Bucky eyed the tattoos peaking out from the woman's collar and sleeves and gulped, feeling way in over his head already.

"My names Cassie," she introduced herself with a sharp smile.

"Bucky," he swallowed thickly and palmed his beer bottle.

"So what are you into?" She jumped right into the questions and all Bucky could think about was the bell ringing, how soon would it happen? Could he ring it if he felt threatened? There was an astounding lack of rules happening, "Like in the bedroom?"

And boundaries.

"Uh," he looked around for Sam who was laughing with a pretty blonde girl across the room.

Bucky could feel sweat on the back of his neck as he messed with the label on his beer bottle.

“You’re not a talker, are you?” Cassie grinned.

It was tensely quiet for a moment before Bucky lifted his paddle with the “no” facing towards his partner.

“Ah, I see. The strong silent type. My kinda guy,” she purred.

Bucky jumped a mile in the air and almost threw his beer across the room as her foot began to stroke its way up his shin. He’d never been more relieved to hear a bell in his life.

Cassie blew him a kiss over her shoulder as she moved onto the next table and Bucky shot daggers at Sam across the room, his nostrils flaring as his so called friend laughed and gestured for him to turn around.

The next woman in front of him looked a little tamer, if he took her ridiculously low cut top out of the equation. His eyes dipped momentarily — he may have been an ex-assassin, but he was a hot-blooded man first — before he caught himself and met her eye with a tight-lipped smile.

"So, how many kids do you wa—"

Bucky stared at her wide-eyed and took a long pull of his beer.

"Nope. Next!"

"You're Bucky Barnes," The red head sneered before she even sat down at the table. "That's incredible, show me it."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, her green eyes predatory as they roved over his arm and down to his hand.

"Show you what?" His brows kissed in frustration.

"The vibranium arm," she leaned over on the table. "There are bets that it's not real, that the government made it up as a fear tactic." She rambled and Bucky tensed, "I mean we all know you're some kind of science experiment," she continued. "Fear mongering doesn't work when you make the poster child for it with thick thighs," the girl looked under the table and winked at Bucky.

"I..." he was uncomfortable but wasn't sure what to say to her.

"Excuse me," a sweet voice floated over the table, "you're in my seat."

Red looked up and looked incredulously at the owner of the voice before turning back to Bucky.

"I said, you're in my seat," the voice repeated, the sweetness dropped a notch.

Bucky's attention was now on the curvaceous blonde who grasped the chair from under the red head and tipped her off. "I said this is my seat, now clear off."

The downed redhead crawled to the next chair, picked up her stuff and disappeared through the cafe.

"Hi Gorgeous, my name's Hazel, pleased to meet you."

Bucky felt himself relax for the first time since he'd taken his seat.

He gave the woman a small smile and nodded in thanks for getting rid of the other woman. “I’m Bucky,” he said quietly as he eyed the now torn off label of his beer.

Hazel smiled at him, her blonde hair bobbed just above her shoulders as she flattened down the skirt of her dress. A pink number with puffy sleeves and a full skirt.

“How have your dates been so far?” Hazel asked. His eyes flicked down to the corner of her lips where they tugged upwards ever so slightly. Heat crawled up his neck as he took a pull from his beer.

“Do people not know what boundaries are anymore?” He said after a moment. Hazel stared at him before bursting into a chuckle.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head and making her blonde bob dance around her ears. “That guy in the blue turtleneck offered me $50 to go home with him.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna kick his ass,” Bucky muttered, semi-rising from his chair, only half joking.

A light touch on his left arm stopped him and the amused twinkle in Hazel’s eyes had him smiling back at her without even realising.

“I don’t need a champion, Bucky, but I appreciate the gesture,” Hazel said, holding out her bottle of beer to clink against his own.

“Ok,” Bucky shrugged as he chimed their bottles together before taking a swig. “Let’s get started then. You wanna go first?”

Hazel scrunched up her nose and tapped her finger against her pouted lips a couple of times. Her eyes lit up before turning a little devilish and Bucky found himself eager to hear what she’d thought of to ask him.

“You know, I could really use a recommendation and you’re just the guy to ask. So…what’s your favourite brand of metal polish?”

Bucky surprised himself with the laugh that escaped him and he didn't miss the proud little smile on Hazel's face, obviously pleased that her question tickled him.

"Y'know, I'm not a fussy guy," he replied, "I'll take anythin' that'll make it shine."

"The arm or your eyes?"

"Hello, smooth talker," Bucky chuckled, "you been talkin' to all the guys like that?"

Hazel shook her head, flashing him a beaming smile. A wisp of her blonde hair fell across her eyes with the movement and Bucky itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, only stopping himself when Hazel leant forward, chin resting in her hand.

"Guess it's my turn again, huh?"

"What's your favorite drink?" Bucky asked her and felt himself leaning into her smile.

"Espresso Martini," she cooed.

Bucky raised his hand in the air and a waitress scooted around a table where the dates were screaming at one another, "how can I help?" She asked.

"Can you get my date an espresso martini please?" He asked and the waitress opened her mouth to explain that she may not be here by the time the drink was made. "She'll be here," Bucky nodded.

The waitress shrugged and ducked back into the chaos around her.

"Seems I've met my match," Hazel stared over at him.

Bucky smirked at her as the bell rang, holding her gaze.

"Time to swap," the next dater spoke from behind Hazel.

"Not happening," Bucky replied, his eyes never leaving hers, as Hazel responded, "He's taken."

As the waitress placed the drink beside Hazel, she shrugged to the disgruntled dater and advised her to move past. "I've bigger fish to fry," she muttered, the couple who had screamed through their date were now heckling each other from several tables apart.

"So, where were we?" Hazel asked, raising her glass in toast to Bucky.

Bucky raised his bottle leaning the neck forward to softly clink her glass, taking a swig as he watched her pink-tinted plump lips part as she brought her glass up to her mouth.

“I believe you have the floor now,” he smiled, watching her blue eyes sparkle under the soft yellow lighting.

“Okay serious question now, promise” she winked, “how are you finding the modern world?”

Bucky let out a long breath and chuckled to himself. "It definitely ain't the 40's anymore darlin'."

Blue eyes regarded him as she tilted her head to the side. "That daunting huh?"

"And more." He said giving her a lopsided smile. "It's not just the technology that's changed, ya know? It's people too. The way people treat eachother. In some ways the world is a lot more accepting and in others..." His voice trailed off.

"Like we're always fighting each other for someone else's agenda?" She finished for him.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

He leaned back in his seat and appraised her as he tilted back his bottle and swallowed a mouthful of beer. Hazel did the same, winking at him over the rim of her martini glass and he felt himself flush under her scrutiny. He liked it.

“What made you come here tonight?” He asked.

“Nancy asked me to make up numbers,” she shrugged, nodding her head towards the organiser in the green dress. “She minded my baby for me last week so I owed her one.”

“Oh?” Bucky raised his eyebrow. “What’s your baby called?”

“Trevor. He’s a total asshole but I adore him,” Hazel gushed. “He’ll sulk for days if I leave him with anyone other than Nancy.”

“Yeah,” Bucky swallowed awkwardly. “I guess kids can be funny like that.”

“Kid?” Hazel threw her head back and cackled. “Trevor’s my cat!”

"Oh...OH!" Bucky chuckled, feeling a little bashful over the misunderstanding. But then with Hazel's laugh, Bucky couldn't help the way his own grew louder.

Hazel's shoulders shook as she tapered off into a giggle and her eyes creased at the corners, lashes glistening with unshed tears. She was gorgeous, her whole personality infectious and Bucky was more than ready to throw caution to the wind, steal her away from this stupid event.

"I, uh... I like cats..." Bucky said suddenly, voice going up like it was a question, and the laughter started all over again. He hadn't felt this loose, his heart this full of something that wasn't dread or fear, in years.

"You do?" Hazel perked up and her soft smile curled to the side.

"I have one," Bucky nodded, "Alpine. Sweet little thing. Feisty too."

"Like father, like daughter, clearly." She teased, her finger rolling down the stem of her glass. "Can I meet her sometime?"

"I'd like that," Bucky smiled at her. "You look amazing in that dress by the way."

"What? This little ole thing?" she quoted. "It's fabulous dahling, I was always told 'go big or go home'. The best advice I've ever been given."

"Who told you that?" Bucky asked curiously.

"My Nan," Hazel smiled at the memory, pausing to take another sip from her glass.

“Must’ve been one wonderful woman as well,” he offered with a tender smile.

“That she was. And, thank you.” Hazel smiled back, eyes glossy.

“So Mr. Barnes, I think we’ve defeated speed-dating. Very succesfully, if I might add,” she winked at the soft laugh that slipped from Bucky’s lips.

Hazel moved her hand and rested it softly atop his and he was absolutely certain from the little twitch upwards at the corner of her lips, that she could see the flush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

“You think your partner back there would mind if we took our drinks somewhere else?” she asked pointing Sam’s way with her plush lips.

"Wouldn't care if he did." Bucky grinned, taking another swig of his beer, "what about you? Do you think Nancy is gonna flip if you leave?"

Hazel glanced over her shoulder at Nancy, too busy calming down a woman. "Nah, she's got her hands full." Those same blue eyes flickered back to him and his heart skipped a beat he was sure of it.

“Well then,” Bucky grinned, hopping up and sliding around the table to Hazel’s side because he was nothing if not a gentleman. He held out his warm hand out for her and something lit up inside him, a sparkling, soft glow in the darkness, as Hazel’s fingers curled around his.

She giggled as she stood, straightening out the skirt of her dress with her free hand and Bucky took a moment to really take her in.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

Bucky shrugged shyly, face warm as Hazel beamed up at him. If only he couldn’t see Sam giving him two goofy thumbs up over her head.

"Okay maybe walk a little faster though," Hazel giggled when Nancy gasped from the left of the room.

The two of them made their way out onto the street in a bundle of laughs and quickened steps as Nancy yelled from the door of the shop. Hazel's cute pink dress was a mess in the wind from their scurried steps and Bucky couldn't help but laugh when he looked over at her to find her hair a mess around her beautiful face.

"Here," he angled himself in front of her, blocking her from the breeze and used both hands to push the hair from her face. "Much better," he smiled, unaware or unbothered by the proximity of their lips as she stared up at him with light dancing across her blue eyes.

"Thanks," she said, her cheeks turning red.

"Any time, beautiful" Bucky voiced as he stroked her flushed cheek tenderly with his gloved thumb.

"Now who's the smooth talker," Hazel laughed, so sweet and melodic Bucky hoped he could hear it everyday.

"Still got something," he chuckled. "Where to next?"

"Well, there's a small bar not far from here. Cozy booths we could sit side by side in... or across from each other you know, your choice." Her eyes shifted from his lips to his eyes and back, and it took every bit of willpower in him not to kiss her right there.

"You really think I'm gonna wanna sit anywhere but right next to ya?" He said, moving his hands reluctantly from her face to offer his hand once more. "Lead the way darlin'."

Hazel grinned up at him. "Do you trust me?"

He saw a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as he glanced down at her but something fluttered in his chest that made him feel like he could actually trust this woman. "and if I say yes?"

She smirked and tugged on his hand, leading him further down the street. "Then you'd make my night."

He couldn't help but laugh as they continued to walk in silence. One that didn't feel pressured or awkward. It was just the two of them enjoying each other's presence. Hazel stopped outside of a small brownstone and looked back at him.

"This doesn't look like a bar, darlin'." He raised a brow.

"That's because it's my apartment." Hazel bit her bottom lip softly as she looked up at him. "I figured if we wanted some place quiet that this might be the best spot and besides...I do need to feed Trevor."

Bucky didn't realise he could raise his eyebrow as high as he just did, blinking down at Hazel as his lips curved into a smirk.

“You’re bold,” he murmured darkly, “I like it.”

“My God, I thought you were about to run for the hills,” Hazel breathed, smacking him lightly on the arm — the left one.

“Sweetheart, the day I run from a gorgeous woman like you will be the day I need my brain fixed… again.”

Hazel’s cheeks turned a soft pink as she chuckled quietly and Bucky couldn’t help himself as his fingers found her jaw again, the pad of his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheek.

“Last chance to back out,” she offered but Bucky shook his head.

“You promised a cat,” he grinned.

“That I did, soldier.” She unlocked the door and led him inside. Locking it behind them as she entered.

The place was cute, decorated in more color than Bucky had ever seen in his entire life. Completely out of place, the most scraggly cat he had ever laid eyes on. Trevor looked like he had gone five rounds with a wood chipper.

“He was an alley cat,” Hazel set her purse on the long teal hallway table between a hot pink vase full of fake flowers and a funky looking bowl for her keys. “Believe it or not, Trevor is in better shape than he’s ever been.”

“I’m sensing a theme,” Bucky teased, squatting before the cat and offering his hand.

“I promise I don’t make a habit of bringing home strays,” Hazel laughed and her fingers ran through Bucky’s hair as she passed. The sensation curled his toes and forced his eyes upward to where she was disappearing around the corner. Nothing but pink tulle and long gorgeous legs.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath and almost crawled after her until he managed to gather enough of his wits about himself to clamber to his feet.

He padded after her into a small kitchen, careful to keep his steps heavy so as not to startle her with his usual light-footed gait. The orange and hot pink accents in the room should have clashed but somehow they didn’t. They were perfectly Hazel. She turned to face him, a bottle of white wine in one hand, a bottle of whiskey in the other, and a cheeky smile on her beautiful face.

Bucky nodded his head towards the whiskey and stepped further into the kitchen as she busied about, pouring them both a glass. Handing him a cut glass tumbler with a healthy measure of amber liquid inside, she raised her wine glass in a wordless toast before taking a sip. Bucky was mesmerised at the way her tongue darted out to capture the stray droplet of wine that lingered on her bottom lip.

Before he even took a sip of the whiskey warmth filled his chest. He hadn't expected to take away anything from the ridiculous spectacle that was speed dating but here he stood, bashful and anxious before a beautiful woman who was anything but those two things.

She set her wine glass down and pulled out a tiny can that had Trevor sounding off like a fire alarm as she struggled to open it. Bucky moved forward in an offer to help but her blue eyes flickered up to him in warning. Eventually she got the lid popped and fed Trevor as Bucky stood and watched her care for the mangled, scruffy looking alley cat.

"You stand out like a sore thumb in here," she teased, looking up at him again before moving around the counter and ushering him through the house.

"I'll confess I feel like one," he said as she sat across from him with her legs tucked under her.

His tongue darted out over his bottom lip, saddened that she had curled away from him. Desperate to touch all of sudden. Like a love sick puppy, touch starved and wanting.

“Not enough to scare you I hope,” Hazel voiced, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she studied him fingers tapping the base of her glass.

“Quite the opposite,” he declared his hand inching closer to where she had rested her free arm on the back of the sofa.

“Good, I think we’d balance each other out perfectly,” she mused, her hand meeting him halfway like she had read his mind just as she took a sip of her wine.

Her delicate fingers traced along the leather of his gloves and her eyes followed like she was lost in thought before she spoke again.

“You know, you don’t have to hide with me.” Her blue eyes found his once more as her fingers curled into his. “I’m not saying you *have* to take them off if you don’t want to, just wanted you to know you were, safe." She finished with a smile so tender and genuine that he thought his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

Bucky smiled and looked down at his hands. He always kept his gloves on unless he was in his apartment or on a mission if he needed to use the arm for strength. Licking his lips, he flexed one hand. "Thank you..." he told her. It was tempting to show her, to relax the worry in his mind. But he didn't want to frighten her either.

She continued to talk, her voice soft and lilting, and Bucky found himself mesmerised by her animated features and expressive hands. A rogue strand of hair was the only thing that interrupted her monologue as it flopped insistently over her forehead. Hazel crossed her eyes endearingly and pursed her lips to blow it out of the way with a chuckle of laughter that turned into a huff as it immediately returned.

Without a second thought Bucky reached forwards and stroked it gently out of her way, tucking the blonde strand behind her ear. The feel of her warm skin against his fingertips was heavenly and then he stilled with the realisation that he’d taken off his gloves.

“There you are,” Hazel murmured, a smile of pure delight on her face as she leaned into the touch of his hand.

He can’t remember the last time he’d used his hands for such a soft gesture, for someone to see him so metaphorically naked and not be fazed in the slightest.

“Hi,” he breathed, fingers still lingering on her cheek.

“Hi, handsome,” Hazel whispered and then, “can I?”

She gestured for his other hand and Bucky nodded, letting Hazel lead as she slid her palm along the vibranuim plates of his, her thumb stroking his wrist as if she’d feel a pulse there. And then he was cupping her cheeks, metal and flesh framing her perfect face.

"Do you feel anything?" She asks him and oddly enough he had never been posed with such a question. He had to think about it.

Could he feel the softness of her skin, the warmth, the realness... or was it just his mind playing tricks on him.

"It's not a trick question?" Hazel whispered, her eyes flickering back and forth over his expression.

"I'm sort of sick of those," he leaned forward, their lips ghosting and breath tangling as he worked up the nerve to kiss her. "Questions are messy," he said.

"You know what's not?" Hazel smiled and it made all the lines around her face crinkle, "kissing."

"I feel like-" Bucky started to say that it was messy, in fact kissing was the epitome of messy but Hazel was done conversation and her lips where colliding with his before he could protest further. They were delicate as she leaned into his touch and dragged her teeth over his bottom lip sending a thousand tiny shivers rolling through him like a wave. It had been a long time since he had been kissed, and even longer since anyone had turned him into knots the way Hazel was.

Bucky sighed softly as his eyes closed. He focused on the softness of her lips, the taste of her cherry chapstick. It wasn’t long before one hand moved to rest on the side of her neck, caressing her smooth skin with his thumb.

Hazel’s lips parted in a soft gasp as Bucky let himself get lost in the kiss. He licked into her mouth, deliberate and tentative all at once. He didn’t want to get this wrong, didn’t want to fuck up the first piece of human interaction to coax out the butterflies that had been hidden, scared away and buried away for the last 80 years.

Hazel’s fingers skimmed along his jaw, scratching over the scruff of his stubble before they tangled into the fluff of hair behind his ears.

Bucky’s breath hitched and someone made a keening little sound, muffled by lips and soft breaths. It wasn’t until Hazel moved in a little closer, kissed him a little softer, that he realised it was him.

His entire body was vibrating and he never wanted to let go of this feeling, to let go of her. He wanted to be here for as long as she would let him.

His flesh hand found purchase in her hair, caressing her blond strands as their tongues danced together while he let his vibranium one travel down her neck. His metal fingers danced along her collarbone and arm as the sweet sounds of her muffled moans took over all of his senses. His hand stopped at her waist, grasping softly as he spoke into their kiss.

“Need you closer, please.” He whined.

Hazel pulled away just enough to where she could speak. “Closer how, handsome?”

He couldn’t put his feelings into words; he was so intoxicated by her, as if the whiskey had actually overpowered the serum that ran through his veins. Sliding his hands lower he cupped her ass over the yards of silky chiffon and pulled her gently towards him.

Hazel laughed, a joyful, tinkling sound, as she let him guide her into straddling his thick thighs.

“Better?” She murmured, running her nose along the length of his jaw before ghosting her lips lightly over his.

“Much,” Bucky hummed as his palms dipped under the hem of Hazel’s dress, caressing the soft skin of her thighs. “Now, sweetheart… you and your gorgeous legs just sit pretty and let me love on you.”

“Well, I know I can do that,” Hazel replied and Bucky could feel her smile, hear the quickening thud of her heart as he kissed her pillow-soft, dewy lips.

There was nothing tentative about the kiss this time, he was determined to make Hazel feel good, to draw out every breath and gasp and moan like it was the only thing that mattered.

"I like you Hazel," Bucky huffed against her lips, needy for more but wanting to play every move carefully. "You surprised me."

"Is that a good," she tensed as his fingers tickled her thigh, "thing? You sound unsure."

"Oh darlin', it's a damn good thing I'm sure."

Hazel giggled softly as she ran one hand slowly through his hair, watching as the man beneath her practically melted. “You’re a little bit like a cat, yourself, you know that?” She smiled. “You practically vibrate when I touch you.”

“How can I not when you feel so good?” He rumbled, adding an extra purr to his words just to hear that laugh of hers again.

It worked. The peal of laughter she let out had his chest blooming with a warmth he’d not felt in years. His hands left her thighs, sliding up and around her back so that he could draw her close.

Hazel fit against his chest as if she’d been made for him, humming contentedly when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Thank you, Bucky,” Hazel murmured softly, tilting up to press a series of sweet kisses along his jaw. Bucky sighed, warmth flooding his belly.

“What for, pretty girl?”

“I know you didn’t want to be at that event but you took a chance, you let me see you.”

“Couldn’t really say no, Hazel. You had me from the moment you kicked that girl out of her seat.” Bucky chuckled, kissing her again. He couldn’t stop, didn’t *want* to stop.

“You mean *my* seat,” Hazel replied, flashing him that cheeky grin.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvelous #one shot #fluff #bucky #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic

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thesugarclubs-blog · 3 months

Text

Moonlight - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: college au, hockey boy bucky, friends to lovers

word count: 6.2k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1418435295-moonlight-luna

Vibe: “I know.” He said with soft furrowed brows. “I’m real sorry Luna.”

She nodded and glanced around the stadium at everyone staring at them. “I forgive you.” She said looking back at him. “Anyone who is crazy enough to come out bare ass on the ice deserves that.” Luna grinned.

Masterlist

Luna loved her dorm room. It was quiet, strung with vine lights and just enough posters that the beige walls felt normal. The room quickly became her safe space. She loved it here.

“Luuuuunaaa.” That familiar voice rang behind her door.

She groaned but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Sitting up in her bed, she waited a moment. “3…2…1–”

“Luna Jackson, I know you’re hiding in that cave, I will break this door down.” Bucky said, his voice muffled against the wood. She laughed knowing that he would probably try. “Is that a laugh I heard? Does the idea of me hurting myself just to see you make you laugh!” By now he was also laughing.

Luna stood and grabbed the door, tugging it open with her signature frown. “My door isn’t a beer can tower you can just put your head through.”

“I wore a helmet.” He smirked leaning against the door frame, “once. It really got in the way the second time…. And the third.”

Luna raised a brow, “that explains so much.”

He finally glanced down at her, that Barnes smile proving to send a shot of warmth straight to her belly. “You wound me, pretty girl.”

“You’ll survive.” She grinned and turned on her heel to jump back onto her bed.

Bucky tugged the back of her shirt shaking his head as she turned to look at him. “You aren’t crawling back into that bed. You promised you’d come to the rink with me.”

“If I remember correctly you assumed I was coming.” She scowled. “The rink is cold and my bed is warm. Cozy warm. Makes you want hot chocolate and a good book warm.”

He smirked. “If you come with me I’ll buy you a hot chocolate there.”

"Not the same thing," she pouted. "Not the same thing at all."

"I'll make sure you stay warm," he pressed, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet.

"Don't be perverse," Luna warned, screwing her face up in mock disgust.

"I meant that you could wear my jersey, jeez," Bucky huffed but there was a knowing smirk building in the corner of his mouth.

"You should be so lucky," she said but then let out a world-weary sigh. "Fine. Gimme ten minutes to change."

Crossing the room, Luna began pulling clothes from her closet. She knew damn well how cold that rink was when she wasn’t working up a sweat on the ice, usually dragged on by Bucky who’d had enough of running drills and challenged her to races she’d never win.

She chucked her warmest sweater onto the bed, a pair of thermal leggings to wear under her jeans and the thickest socks she owned and then turned to Bucky who was still leaning in her doorway. He was watching her with that look he gets sometimes, eyes soft and hazy.

“If you think you’re about to get lucky Barnes, you can think again.” Luna twirled her finger in the air, pointing out into the hall, and Bucky sagged with a dramatic groan as he turned around. “I won’t be long.”

She heard him grumble a quiet "yeah yeah" under his breath before he left, throwing her one sneaky, quick glance over his shoulder as she shut the door to her room, the lingering look setting off butterflies that she'll deny with all her might they exist.

Barnes was probably one of the very few people in her life that could make her give up a warm bed and a book in the calmness of her room in exchange for going out and having fun. Luna felt lucky for knowing him.

After shimying into her jeans, she tugged on her sweater, her warmest one was coincidentally the emerald green one Bucky had once said he loved because it brought out her eyes. Everytime she wore it he gave her a look that was enough to warm her up even if the temperatures were well below zero. She huffed out a breath shaking away the thought as she laced up her docs before grabbing her bag and her current read just in case.

“I’m gonna open the door Bucky, you might wanna step away from it,” she laughed

“All clear!” His muffled voice murmured from the other side.

“Everytime,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s go Barnes before I change my mind.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that to me sweets” he smiled as he took her in, “I love that on ya Jackson.” His eyes drifted down to the book tucked under her arm.

“Everytime,” he laughed.

They walked down the hallway side by side, Bucky hovering his palm over the small of the back like he always did.

His hand never touched her although secretly she wished he would.

It was a gesture of friendly protection, showing the world that she was under his guard and belonged to him.

Luna would have never thought she'd be close to the star player of the hockey team, the center forward that was probably the center of a lot of college girl's sex dreams. She mentally rolled her eyes by thinking about all the girls that waited for him at every practice and game just to get a puck, a disgustingly sweaty jersey, or his phone number.

Luna took a deep breath as they walked into the rec center, preparing her lungs for the seasonal chill that filled the space when the arena floor was covered with ice. She glanced up at Bucky to see that light in his eyes sparkle. The one he always got when he entered the building. His eyes flicked down to hers and that swarm of butterflies she consistently had to swear off started up again in her chest. "What did you drag me down here for exactly?"

The grin that spread across his features both terrified her and warmed her at the same time. "Hot chocolate?" He smirked.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him. "I somehow doubt that."

"Can't a guy just want to spend time with his Luna whenever he wants?" He leaned forward, tucking his chin down to meet her gaze.

"Your Luna?" She replied indignantly. "Since when?"

"Always," Bucky shrugged, "You got a problem with that?"

Luna huffed and stormed over to her usual seat by the side of the rink and dropped her bag on the floor. There was a package there, wrapped in brown paper, with her name printed on it in block capitals. It was heavy in her hands, and bulky, and the paper had already begun to tear through in one corner as something metallic and sharp poked through. She started there, ripping open the wrappings to reveal a pair of skates. They were white with emerald-green laces and had yellow crescent moons painted along the sides. Gasping in surprise she turned to face Bucky, who approached carrying two hot chocolates and wore a cocky grin.

"Buck..."

"What? Your old ones were tattered and shit. I thought I'd give you a fighting chance at beating me in a race at least once," he said.

A familiar warmth spread throughout her, and for a moment Luna let her emotions show on her face. A soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She'd never had someone in her life that was so observant to little things the way that he was. From freshman orientation, Bucky had been like a thorn in her side that she couldn't get rid of in the best way possible. He made her smile more times than she'd ever admit and as she examined the new pair of skates in her hand, running her finger over the crescent moons, for a short moment, she let her real feelings creep in.

"You know I don't need an advantage to beat you in a race," Luna cleared her throat, finally looking over to meet Bucky's sparkling blue eyes.

With a snorted laugh, Bucky shook his head, "Well you've only won once, so I think you might," he joked, "but if you don't like 'em..." he started, reaching his hand out to take the skate.

"No!" Luna pulled them away, "You put all this effort in, the least I could do is humor you," she smirked.

Bucky grinned down at her as he handed a hot chocolate over, extra whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles just how she liked it.

“Oh, it’s on, little moon. Drink your hot chocolate and then lace up.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Luna threw him a lazy two finger salute and took a sip of her drink, instantly feeling cold whipped cream smear across the tip of her nose.

“You got a little something just…” Bucky murmured as he plopped down in the seat beside her. He reached out, swiping the cream from her nose with his finger and flashed her a lopsided smile. “There.”

She couldn't help the shuddered breath that escaped her as her eyes caught on the sight of Bucky sliding his thumb between his lips and sucking the whipped cream off of it.

Luna quickly averted her eyes away from his, sitting down on the bench and busying her hands with the new skates while she hoped her hair covered her rosy cheeks.

"Just... just give me a minute to change into them then we can break them in," Luna told him. The flurry of feelings started to swell in her heart making it hard to speak.

She took one more sip of her hot chocolate before setting it beside her to bend over and unlace her boots.

“You really wanna beat me that much you’re not gonna finish your hot chocolate,” he all but screeched.

“Hey, I never leave a hot chocolate behind, one. Two, I just wanna get a feel of ‘em before I win, you know stretch my toes in them. That also gives you a chance to prepare for your imminent defeat Barnes,” she declared.

“Feisty, I like it Jackson.” He mused

"You know it," she winked at him, looking up into his smiling eyes.

"Hiya Buck," a group of sophomores chorused as they skated past. Bucky turned his head towards the voices and waved, his eyes reluctant to leave hers.

"Your fanclub's in," she teased, standing up and testing her weight on the new blades.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "How do they feel?"

"Like they were made for me. You really shouldn't have, but I'm glad you did. Thank you." Luna smiled at him again. He really did make her feel warm and fuzzy inside, but in all the time they'd been friends he'd never made her feel that he wanted more, and that she was firmly parked in the friend zone.

"So, you'll abandon that hot chocolate and follow me on the ice, Jackson?"

Luna was so focused on testing the new blades that she hadn't realized that Bucky had changed into his own and was standing in front of her with his hand stretched out toward her.

"Abandoning hot chocolate means bad luck. Not gonna risk it," she said before emptying the cup with her eyes fixed on him. When she set it back down, she let her tongue slip out, and carefully cleaned the remaining whipped cream around her lips.

Bucky was still watching her, completely ignoring the same group of girls as they passed by them again with loud giggles and teasing "We need some help with skating. Maybe you can teach us, Buck" shouts. A playful smirk danced around his face before he slightly shook his head in amusement.

"You're going to be the death of me one day," he mumbled before turning around and making his way to the open door that would let them enter the ice.

"That's too much pressure." Luna scrunched her nose as she set her hot chocolate down and stood up on wobbly legs. She always hated this part, getting from the regular floor to the ice. She felt like a baby deer trying to get there. Bucky, never failing to notice anything about her, reached for her elbow after one unsteady step and smiled warmly at her.

"I've got you."

Luna glanced up at him as she steadied herself and stepped onto the ice. "Thanks." She whispered, feeling her cheeks turn pink.

"Anytime pretty girl."

A chorus of Bucks greeted them as soon as their blades hit the ice. With an apologetic shrug of his shoulders Bucky skated backwards away from her and towards the gaggle of puck bunnies that waited near the center of the rink. Luna clutched the barrier as she let herself become used to the lack of friction, eyeing their short sleeves and furry ear muffs with disdain.

She let out a scoff and pushed herself off, gliding slowly but gracefully towards the group. She’d skated all her life and was more than confident on the ice but her sense of self-preservation had always been stronger than Bucky's. It was the reason he always had her beat.

Ear piercing giggles sounded from the girls as Bucky charmed them, talking about his last game and how “easy” of a win it was. Luna was sure she saw her brain when she rolled her eyes as she finally got up beside Bucky.

“And then just as the buzzer sounded, I shot the puck into the net right between the goalies knees,” he boasted, a proud smirk on his face as he looked down at Luna.

With a soft laugh, blond shook her head, “you only made that shot because Wilson was picking a fight and had everyone distracted”

“A wins a win” he winked with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I think it was a great shot Bucky, the team couldn’t have done it without you,” a brunette practically sang, placing her hand on Buck’s bicep.

“That’s what they always say,” Bucky replied, beaming proudly as he glanced over at Luna for confirmation.

Luna’s gaze had drifted to the brunette’s hand on Bucky’s arm, staring at it like she’d somehow developed telekinetic powers and any moment now the other girl would let go.

“Right, pretty girl?” Bucky pressed.

Luna glanced up, sensing the daggers the girls were sending her for Bucky’s sweet term of endearment.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, all the time,” she agreed.

Bucky furrowed his brows as if he sensed that she was uncomfortable with the dressed-up girls around them. The brunette was beaming at Bucky, revealing toothbrush-advertisement-white teeth and Luna had to admit that the sophomore was beautiful. She and Bucky would look great on the cover page of the campus' magazine.

"I'm having trouble finding my balance in these skates. Do you have any tips, Buck?" the brunette asked, blinking with her fake eyelashes in his direction.

"Actually, I was here to help Luna break in her new skates and..."

"I'll be fine, Barnes. Give her a helping hand. She needs it. Even a newborn foal is steadier on its legs than this girl," Luna interrupted him with a shake of her hand.

Bucky turned his head towards her, raising his brows in a silent 'Are you sure?', but she only gave him a shy smile in return.

The girls wouldn't have stopped harassing them until he finally helped out the brunette. She was looking at him with heart-eyes, giggling at every word he spoke, funny or not. It was always the same with him and the fangirls and she was sure he enjoyed bathing in attention.

"Alright. Let me see you skate and I’ll try to help," Bucky spoke towards the brunette again, watching the girl stumble over the ice with a contorted face.

Luna wasn't needed in the assessment, so she pushed off from where she was currently standing and started skating around the rink to get comfortable with the new skates.

Maybe she should have stayed in her cozy bed with a book. Then she wouldn't have to watch this awkward group date that reminded her a lot of 'The Bachelor'.

Ten minutes later, Luna stepped from the ice onto the rubber matting of the floor. She'd been quite happy skating around on her own, her thoughts back on the times when she'd taken ice dancing at elementary school, but one of the guys in her chem class had started to bug her. He'd been trying to catch her attention as she skated around but she didn't want to hang out with him. She'd come to the rink with Bucky. She looked back over in his direction but he was still basking in the attention of the puck bunnies, what was even more infuriating was that it was obvious that the girls knew what they were doing.

She picked up her hot chocolate and took a sip. It wasn't scalding hot like she had hoped but it was still warm enough that she enjoyed it. She leaned over the edge of the rink, watching everyone skate by. The group of girls and Bucky had migrated closer to her as he laughed with them. They pretended to trip over gouges in the ice, using any excuse they could to hold onto him. It didn't help the little green monster on her back that wanted to drag him away.

Lost in her thoughts, Luna didn't realize that the girl who had asked for his help in the first place was skating towards her. In a moment, the girl knocked into her, splashing the hot chocolate all over Luna and her emerald sweater. "Hey!"

The girl shot her a sickly sweet glare and shrugged. "Sorry!"

Bucky skated over with his brows furrowed. The gaggle of girls following behind him. "I'm just so clumsy. I think I need more lessons, Buck what do you think?"

Luna glanced down at herself. Her shirt and jeans were soaked. She knew it wasn't an accident just by the daggers coming her way from the girl and her friends. Her eyes flit to Bucky and his fist was covering his mouth.

"Pretty girl, you gotta be more careful." He said, amusement pure in his voice. The girls burst out laughing and soon he followed, sending a sinking feeling through Luna.

“You’re telling me to be careful?” Luna snapped, her fury rising.

“Well, they’re new skates s’gonna take some time to get used to ‘em,” Bucky said, clueless innocence plastered all over his face.

“Yeah,” the chief bunny chimed in, resting her head against Bucky’s broad shoulder, “we can’t all be as good on the ice as Bucky. Maybe you should watch him for some pointers.”

“Watch him?” Luna fumed, reaching boiling point as she took in Bucky’s banal smile. “Watch him?! Watch this!”

She sank to her knees on the ice and began to unlace her skates.

She tugged at the boots, cursing them as they caught on her heel, not yet worn into the shape of her feet. With one off, it fell to the ice, metal blade clattering before the other boot joined it and Luna huffed, climbing to up from her knees. The ice soaked through her socks, chilling and wet as she clutched the skates in her hands.

“Luna, what are you—“

Bucky’s words died on his tongue as Luna launched a skate at him.

“You can take your brand new fuckin’ skates, Barnes. And shove them up—” she threw the other skate and it bounced off his thigh before landing at his feet, “your ass.”

And with that, she stormed off the ice.

Luna could hear the commotion behind her as she grabbed her book and boots and ran towards the door of the rec center. The gasps at her actions and concern that the girls had shown Bucky were quickly covered by him shouting her name after her. She paused, just once, and looked behind her. Bucky had picked up her skates and was making his way off the ice, the girls behind him long forgotten.

Luna didn't stop running until she was back at the dorm. She was still in just her socks, she hadn't wanted to stop to put on her boots in case he caught up to her. She was so mad she was in tears and she didn't want to let anyone see her cry. She slammed her door shut, locked it and threw herself onto her bed.

Luna laid there for a while. The tears had stopped and were replaced with the knowing feeling that the feelings that secretly laid beneath the surface for Bucky would never come to light.

A soft knock came across her door and her eyes slid closed. "Luna?" Bucky asked. She heard a soft thud followed by the sound of him sliding down the door.

"Go away, Bucky." She said softly.

"You forgot your skates...and left your shoes out." His voice sounded so small compared to his usual boisterous self and she hated the ache it created in her chest. "Please talk to me? I don't...I don't know what I did."

“That’s the problem, Barnes, you never do. I didn’t even want to come to the damn rink in the first place. All I wanted was a quiet day in bed with a good book but there you were, all puppy dog eyes and charming fucking smile…”

“You think my smile’s charming?” He asked, and the hope in his tone sent her apoplectic.

“Just go away! Slide on back to your puck bunnies.”

“But I don’t wanna go away, pretty girl. I wanna spend the day with you. I don’t know what I did to make you feel bad but I promise I’ll make it better. Just let me…”

“I said no, Bucky,” Luna interrupted him, her voice cracking. “Leave me alone.”

“Little moon,” Bucky whined, and Luna could hear him shuffling on the floor followed by a soft thud of what she assumed was his hand against the wooden door.

“Don’t call me that, Bucky. Don’t call me ‘little moon’ or ‘pretty girl’—“

“Only calling you what you are, Luna.”

Luna sniffled, hugging the stupid bear Bucky won for her at the fair to her chest.

“You laughed at me, Buck,” she said softly. “She intentionally knocked into me and you didn’t do anything. Just made shitty comments and laughed. You’ve never made me feel so small.”

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," his tone changed, the whine had disappeared and was replaced by something akin to sorrow. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

"You just did," she whispered. "I need you to go." Luna felt like her heart was breaking and she did not like it.

She heard Bucky's head thunk on the door before he got up and then it went quiet.

Luna waited a few minutes until she was convinced it was safe to open the door. She found her shoes and skates propped up against it and the sight of the tiny little moons sent her heart cracking. She picked them up and tossed them aside in her room before shutting the door and changing into something comfortable and hiding away in her bed.

Hours later a soft knock sounded on her door and Luna managed to lift her head enough to hear the sad voice that drifted into her room.

“I know you’re mad at me pret- Luna, but please come to the game tonight? Please?”

Her chest tightened at the plaintive sound of Bucky’s words and she pulled her comforter up over her head. It wasn’t fast enough to block out the dejected apology that he ended with, however, before his heavy footsteps took him away back down the hallway.

Luna flopped restlessly onto her back and threw her forearm over her eyes. There was no way she would be going to the game tonight.

She couldn’t.

She…

With a huff, she peeled back her comforter and shifted to sit on the edge of her bed, her face drawn into a disgruntled frown.

Stepping into the rink again felt like a mistake the moment she clocked the girls from earlier in the stands, dolled up for the players and still in far less clothing than they should be for an ice rink.

Luna heaved out a sigh, avoiding eye contact as she slipped into her usual row. Bucky always knew where to look for her, and part of her was dreading seeing him but she still cared about him, still knew he'd find her in the stands as he took his position on the ice and the last thing she wanted to do was throw him off his game.

The rink was loud, only growing louder as the teams finally skated out and she spotted him straight away. His broad shoulders were made even broader by his uniform, smile laid back and cheeky for the crowd as he fist bumped his team mates and then his eyes were on her, and his stupid, handsome face lit up like she was the best thing he'd ever seen.

Hi, he mouthed, his lips curving in a grateful smile before he shoved his mouth guard over his teeth and it was game on.

The action out on the ice was brutal, it was always the same when they played these opponents, and they'd been battling it out the whole game. Bucky was outstanding, finding the goal twice and setting up two other players to score as well. Once the final whistle had sounded the bunnies had swarmed down to the ice and Luna noticed that the brunette was now sporting a home jersey with BARNES printed on the back.

That bitch was now making her last nerve tick, she was going to swing for her, no word of a lie... Luna pulled herself up short, what was she thinking?

She scanned the ice for Bucky, he'd been there a minute ago, high fiving and fist bumping his team mates. Well she was damned if she was going to go looking for him, especially with them hanging around, eating up the attention they were getting from the players. She'd just sit here until he came to get her.

The rest of the team had formed a semi-circle in the middle of the rink, throwing their arms around each other and sliding about in celebration. Even as they tore off their helmets there was still no sign of Bucky’s fluffy dark hair.

Luna sat back in her seat, her arms folded huffily across her chest but a hush fell over the crowd and drew her attention. Whistles and hollers began near the players’ entrance that grew into a thunderous riot as Bucky made his appearance back on the ice in nothing but his skates with his helmet clutched protectively over his junk.

Lips formed in a tight line as she tried not to laugh and with a disbelieving shake of her head, Luna’s eyes followed Bucky across the ice as he showed off, spinning and laughing before he stopped dead centre.

“Really, Bucky?” Luna whispered to no one in particular as Bucky adjusted his helmet over his crotch and inevitably found her again in the crowd.

Bucky grinned, bright eyed and mischievous, and then he spun on the spot to reveal her name scrawled across his broad shoulders, thick lines of marker pen spelling out ‘Jackson’ between two love hearts.

Luna slid as far down in her seat as she could when a few eyes in the surrounding seats glanced between her flushing face and Bucky's grin on the rink.

"I'm sorry Luna Jackson! Please forgive me!" The naked brunette hollered across the ice at her while his teammates and the fans sitting around the ice burst in laughter and a few of the girls glared her way.

"You're crazy, Barnes," she muttered under her breath and shook her head at his antics. Her eyes never leaving his form as he skated closer, the butterflies in her chest increasing as Luna saw the sparkle in his eyes. The pleading look in his gaze broke her resolve.

She wouldn't deny him. Couldn't even if she wanted to.

That same lopsided smile spread over his features as he got closer. The normal cockiness vanished for a moment as he looked at her. “C’mon pretty girl, please forgive me.”

Luna couldn’t help her own smile at hearing the soft whine in his voice. She knew that being mad at him was only going to last for a few hours anyway. Bucky had a way of turning into the Kool-aid man and bursting through every wall she put up around herself…and her heart.

Her dorm room? Was still comfy and cozy with her lights and posters but it never felt right without Bucky Barnes curled up at the foot of her bed reading his comics or rambling on about practice. He was her constant. Her person.

“You hurt me Barnes.” She countered standing up and taking the short few steps to the edge of the rink where he waited.

“I know.” He said with soft furrowed brows. “I’m real sorry Luna.”

She nodded and glanced around the stadium at everyone staring at them. “I forgive you.” She said looking back at him. “Anyone who is crazy enough to come out bare ass on ice deserves that.” Luna grinned.

With a triumphant whoop, Bucky threw his arms in the air and spun in a circle, completely forgetting about the helmet protecting his modesty. It skittered across the ice and a collective gasp sounded from the crowd as Bucky slid to a stop, bare-ass naked, with his arms in the air and a broad grin on his face.

It was almost comedic, the way his eyes darted from Luna down to his groin and then back again in quick succession. At least he had the good grace to blush as she rushed to close the distance between them, sliding out onto the ice in her sneakers. She tore off her top layer of clothing and collided with Bucky’s solid frame, wrapping the sleeves around his waist as his arms wrapped around her.

“You wore my jersey,” he stated affectionately.

“Yeah, well one of us had to,” she snarked, but her shy smile took the sting out of her words.

"You really forgive me?" He asked quietly, not caring that he was naked and flashing everyone.

"Yes, you doofus. Now go cover up please?" Luna gritted.

She was flustered. The feel of his skin beneath her palms was sending goosebumps all over her body and her skin was heating up in the middle of the cold rink. She didn't dare move her hands any lower than his waist. Although the jersey she’d swung around his waist hung precariously low covering his groin, the trail of dark hair from his navel and down was hard to miss when her eyes didn't know where to look.

Bucky was grinning madly at her but, before he could say anything else, the angry shout of one Coach Fury sounded across the rink.

"Barnes! You better get your ass off the damn ice right this second!"

“You should, um—“ Luna said softly, giggling as Bucky shivered and fumbled a little on his skates.

“You know, I didn’t really think about how cold this place would be with no clothes on.”

“No shit, Buck. Go, before you face the wrath of Fury.”

Bucky nodded, smiling at her so hard his eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched. Luna turned to leave too, her heart flipping when Bucky suddenly reached out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“Meet me at our spot, pretty girl?”

Luna smiled, that familiar warmth she only got when Bucky called her that spread through her. "After you get some clothes on." She laughed as he let go of her.

"Fine." He huffed but followed it with a smirk.

She watched for a moment as he skated away from her before she turned and headed out of the stadium. It was a short walk to the center of campus where a tall oak tree stood. Their tree. Luna settled against the rough bark as she sat in the grass and waited for him. Droves of students and staff alike passed by, all whooping and hollering to celebrate their team's win.

It was the giggles and snickers that first alerted Luna to someone’s approach. Calls of ”Bucky” and offers of phone numbers followed in his wake as he jogged across the green towards her. She scrambled to her feet and stood awkwardly, nerves coursing through her as he drew ever closer. He didn’t slow down, instead barreling into her and sweeping her off her feet with arms wrapped tightly around her.

He nuzzled into the tumble of hair behind her ear muttering apology after apology as he spun them in a circle, completely oblivious to the brunette and her gaggle of hangers-on that loitered at the edge of the grass.

“Put me down you big oaf!” Luna laughed even though she found herself clinging to him tighter, savouring the way Bucky’s body felt simultaneously soft and firm and warm against hers, and the soft brush of his lips over her neck as he whispered his apologies against her skin.

Eventually, he set her down on the grass, tucking a hair behind her ear as he stared down at her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured once more and Luna thwacked him across the arm for it.

“I already said I forgive you, Barnes. Just don’t do it again.”

“Cross my heart, little moon,” Bucky smiled, his voice tender as his hand lingered at her jaw, cupping her chin gently. “Luna…”

Her breath hitched as their eyes connected, the blue of his eyes almost navy in the dimly lit campus. He shifted his weight closer to her, the scent of him enveloping her.

He was still caressing her jaw, his thumb slowing down when it reached her bottom lip, tracing it softly.

"Buck I–"

"Can I, little moon?" He interrupted. His gaze focused on her lips as he licked his own in anticipation.

Her heart was beating wildly behind her ribcage. This is the moment their friendship had been building toward, the longing for more was all powerful. And looking at him now, Luna knew she couldn't resist the pull any longer. No matter how much she was terrified of ruining what they already had.

Not giving herself anymore time to doubt her decision, she nodded once.

"Yes."

Bucky's lazy smile returned as his eyes met hers briefly before closing the distance between them. Soft lips pressed against her own and she felt his hand slide into her hair, tangling his fingers at the root. Luna let out a soft whimper against his mouth and it only took a moment before her lips parted and his tongue slid against hers.

His answering moan sent a thrill of desire down her spine and she wound her arms around his neck. Tilting his head the other way, he deepened the angle of their kiss even more. His hand splayed out across the middle of her back and he shuffled them backwards a few steps, his lips never leaving hers, until they came to a halt against the wide trunk of the oak.

“You ok, pretty girl?” He murmured, punctuating his words with the featherlight kisses she’d secretly daydreamed about.

“I’m having a hard time believing this is real,” Luna chuckled, “but I’m more than okay.”

Bucky laughed, the sound rich and melodic as he pressed in impossibly close. With one hand braced against the trunk of the tree, he dipped his head and pressed a series of soft, ticklish kisses across Luna’s cheeks.

“It’s very real— God, Luna, you gotta know how much you mean to me. I’ve been stupid about you since the moment we met. You’re gorgeous—“ He kissed her forehead. “Intelligent—“ Another kiss to her cheek. “Wickedly funny.” Bucky kissed her other cheek, thumb brushing over her bottom lip and tugging it down gently. “And yeah, you’re a bit of a grump but opposites attract, right?”

“You’re an idiot,” Luna giggled, reaching up and threading her fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky scoffed. “But I wanna be your idiot if you’ll let me?”

It was hard to believe, not in a million years would she have thought she'd have a shot with Bucky Barnes. He was handsome, smart, and annoyingly funny and– try all she might, Luna didn't have a chance of resisting him.

Especially not with how stupidly gorgeous he looked right now, pledging himself to her if she agreed.

Her heart had the decision made before he even asked.

"Yeah," she looked up into his pretty blues, her voice breathless from the onslaught of emotions swirling in them.

Luna smiled softly, closing the distance between their lips again before whispering, "I guess I'll be your grump then."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #college au #hockey romance #friends to lovers #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #fluff #one shot #marvelous #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic

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thesugarclubs-blog · 3 months

Text

2022 Masterlist | 2023 Masterlist

Marvel Oneshots

Winner Takes All - Steve Rogers

Moonlight - Bucky Barnes

Be Mine - Bucky Barnes

Good Boys - Steve Rogers & Thor Odinson

A Shot to the Heart - Bucky Barnes

Put A Little Love on Me - Sam Wilson

Ace of Hearts - Bucky Barnes

Stranger Things Oneshots

Grishaverse Oneshots

#marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #one shot #stranger things one shot #stranger things oneshot #stranger things imagine #marvel au #stranger things au #grishaverse oneshot #grishaverse one shot #grishaverse au #grishaverse imagine

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thesugarclubs-blog · 3 months

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Winner Takes All - Steve Rogers x OC

warnings: frat boy college steve rogers, roommates to lovers, 'it's always been you'

word count: 7.7k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1417543778-winner-takes-all-drew

Vibe: "Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and then this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more then that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

Masterlist

Drew’s fluffy socks skimmed over the wooden floor of the apartment, hands full with four beer bottles and a bag of chips tucked under her arm.

The kitchen was quiet except for the odd noise filtering from a bedroom down the hall. A muffled but distinctive groan from her idiot of a roommate and a giggle she didn’t recognise made Drew roll her eyes as she shuffled her way back to the living room.

As she passed through she palmed one beer off to Sam, laid out on the floor with the PlayStation controller left abandoned by his side and his eyes glued to his phone, and one each to Bucky and Natasha, who had somehow managed to both fit curled up together on the armchair despite the whole couch being empty.

Friday afternoons often went like this, they’d find themselves lazing in Drew and Steve’s apartment. Sometimes they’d just stay in and sometimes their afternoon beers led to pre-drinking and bar hopping.

Their bottles were nearly empty by the time Steve and his company finally emerged, hushed voices and laughter echoing all the way to the front door before it swung swiftly closed, and Drew glanced up to see her roommate entering the living room — his dirty-blond hair disheveled, lips pink and t-shirt all askew.

“Aw, didn’t want to introduce us to your hook up, Rogers?” Bucky asked, smirk on his lips as he shoved a handful of chip crumbs into his mouth.

“And put her through the pain of meeting you losers?”

Steve grinned as he hopped over the back of the couch, making himself comfy in the spot right beside Drew and plucking the beer from her hand, draining the last of it.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you have a date you should be getting ready for?” Steve countered, wiggling his eyebrows. “Patrick or Pedro or something?”

“Peter, but you knew that Steven.”

“Yep. Anyway, you don’t mind if I shower first, do you?”

He was up again before Drew could argue, rounding the couch and smacking a wet kiss to her cheek from behind.

Drew begrudgingly watched him saunter off to their shared bathroom, her attention only pulled away from Steve’s toned back when Natasha cleared her throat and Bucky stifled a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing D,” he shook his head but she knew that look.

“It’s never going to happen,” Natasha finally piped up, “Rogers is a coward, say goodbye to your money Buck.”

He ruffled a hand through her thick red hair, flinching back when she threatened him under her breath.

“What money?” Drew raised an eyebrow. “I feel out of the loop.”

“You are the loop, it’s torture watching you and Steve going around in a circle. So we made a bet…” Sam’s playful nature died on his lips with a kick from Natasha.

“A bet?” Drew wasn’t completely in the dark. Not when it came to her feelings about Steve. But they were friends, barely and in he was constantly preoccupied by someone prettier and funnier.

"What kind of bet?" Drew asked hesitantly. Her mind already summing up the reason behind their friends' mischevious ways.

Sam gave her a side glance from his position on the floor that said "are you really asking that question?" while Bucky answered with a grin, "Who would give in first. My money says you– Ow! What the fuck Nat?!"

Natasha had a glare on her face as she cut him off and smacked him up the head.

"Just cause he's been your friend since kindergarten doesn't automatically make him a winner, you ass!" Nat defended.

Drew huffed an indignant breath and tried to glare at her so called friends.

"Oh, boy. Can someone with a little more common sense tell me what kind of bet this is. I would like to know how that bet involves me." She asked, faking a stern tone trying to get one of them to talk.

Natasha stared at her, exasperation clear on her face. The red head’s rigid look was just enough to break Drew’s resolve rather than wait for one of them to answer her clearly.

“You're my best friend Drew, so I can say this. Stop acting so dense. You know what it’s about and it’s a lot deeper than what these two doofus’ faces or tones are showing.”

Bucky and Sam mumbled in offense, pressing their lips together as soon as Nat narrowed her eyes at them.

“I just want you to let yourself be happy, D”

Drew felt her heart clench inside her chest at her friend’s words. She should’ve known Nat would catch her no matter how hard she tried to just be friends with Steve, she knows her too well.

Before she could answer, the bathroom door unlocking filled her silence. And like a saving grace Steve’s voice boomed through the hallway.

“Showers all yours Drewski!”

Heat rose up her chest and neck as her eyes flicked between the boys and Nat before pushing herself up.

“I have a date to get ready for.” She muttered.

With that, the blonde rounded the couch and headed down the hallway, pausing to grab her towel off the back of her bedroom door. She let out a huff and shook her head once, trying her best to push her friend's betrayal out of her mind. They were crazy if they thought something was going to happen between her and Steve. That boy wouldn't recognize her as more than a roommate if she up and slapped him across the face with her feelings. Which Drew had to admit did sound like a pleasing idea.

She let out a small laugh to herself before a clear of his throat pulled her from her head.

"Whatcha thinking about, princess?" Steve smirked, roughly rubbing his towel over his dirty blonde hair.

A drop of water from his hair ran down his neck and Drew couldn't help but follow the trail with her eyes. quickly biting the inside of her cheek before she returned her gaze to him with an eye roll, "First of all, I told you to stop calling me that. And if you must know, I was thinking about how satisfying it would be to slap you across the face," the blonde quipped as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door before he could answer.

Stomping grumpily into the shower to the echo of Steve’s laughter, Drew lathered her hair and gave her scalp an overly vicious scrub. Natasha’s words raced around her brain. She loved her friend with every fiber of her being but she was wrong. There was no-way that hulking blond jackass had any feelings other than irritation and plain devilment towards her.

With a frustrated sigh she began her pre-date shower routine, even breaking out the hardcore expensive body wash that her mom had bought her last Christmas. By the time she stepped out of the shower, Drew was determined not to let that ape or her meddling friends derail her plans for a good night.

Back in her bedroom, Drew perched on the edge of her bed. Hair wrapped in a towel, she slathered moisturizer on her legs as she hummed along softly to her date night playlist.

She could hear the boys laughing in the living room, Steve’s obnoxious shouting and the music of whichever video game they’d gone back to playing, when she heard the quiet knock on her door.

“You can come in, Nat,” Drew called, unraveling her hair from the towel and squeezing out the damp ends.

Natasha wandered into the room and sunk against the dresser, picking at the chipping paint that coated the old wood. "You know that it's all in your best interest?"

"What?" Drew said as she hung the towel. "Dating Steve? It's clear it's a game to you guys."

"It's not," Natasha said in a more serious tone and tapped the dresser to get my attention. "At least it wasn't, we've been watching you both around each other and it only got worse when you started living together. Steve is blind to anyone else in the room when you're around and you're the only person who doesn't see it."

"I have a date," Drew noted, shoving down the butterflies that fluttered in her chest at the thought and checking her reflection in the mirror before adding some mascara to her lashes.

"With some dweeb that won't even remember you like orange juice with the pulp, or that you like vanilla creamer in your coffee after if he gives you thirty second mind blowing sex," Nat rolled her eyes and mocked Drew in what was supposed to be a frat boys confident swagger.

Steve always remembered the orange juice.

"I'm sorry you're out twenty bucks Natasha," Drew stared at her before collecting her bag and going to leave.

"My phones on," Nat said from her position in Drew's room, "text me if you need an exit strategy."

"Always," Drew offered a smile and snuck from the apartment before the guys could hassle her further about the situation.

Thirty minutes into the date, Drew was already itching to reach for her phone and beg Natasha for a fake emergency. Peter was a completely different person outside of their Psych class. Loud, obnoxious and flirted with every waitress that passed their table. Steve's obnoxious too. She thought as she stared at the man in front of her as he shoved onion ring after onion ring into his mouth. He rambled on about anything and everything under the sun since they sat down. Yeah, but Steve doesn't eat like a Neanderthal.

Drew shook her head of thoughts of Steve and focused on the football game on the TV behind him. It was ironic, that the only thing getting her through this was a game she cared nothing about and yet felt less than because Steve wasn't around to scream at the television.

Once they finished eating, they split the bill and Peter walked her outside. A shit-eating grin on his face.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him with an awkward laugh.

"Nothing," Peter shrugged, "it's just that I'm surprised Rogers let you out of the house." He took a step towards her, dragging his fingers down her bare arms. Drew had to fight off an actual shiver as she stepped out of his touch. "I'm glad he did though."

I'm not.

"What do you mean by let me out?" She fought to keep her face neutral as she forced the words out of her mouth, taking half a step more out of his reach.

"Ya' know," he shrugged with a smirk.

"No, I don't." She bit out.

"He's always around you somehow, like a goddamn guard dog. Do you know how many times I tried to ask you out but he was always there?"

what?!

Peter's annoying rambling continued, unaware of just how much Drew was losing interest in him, what was left of it anyway.

"I finally got Rocket to corner him to ask about the team try-outs as a distraction so I could talk to you." He finished. Smugness radiated off of him and the sight made Drew furious.

"Goodnight, Peter. Don't bother calling." Drew turned on her heels, fuming and left him, confused and annoyed on the sidewalk.

I should have stayed home with my friends, she thought as she walked to her car that she was glad she took instead of having Peter pick her up. Him touching bare arm had been enough to make her skin crawl. But what concerned her even more was the way Peter called Steve a guard dog. There was a bite to his tone as if he was staking his claim on her like she was a toy on the playground toddlers fought over.

She sniffled as she unlocked her car and sat in the seat. Wiping her eyes, she pulled out her phone and texted Nat.

Drew: Things didn't go well. I told him not to call me.

Tossing her phone into the passenger seat, Drew made her way home, tightly gripping her steering wheel as Exes by Tate McRae sounded loudly through the car. She silently reminded herself that she'd have to thank Steve for preventing that from happening sooner. Her body shivered in disgust as she threw the car in park, looking up at her building.

Her phone let out a soft ding as Nat reacted to her message with a heart, telling her she'd be over in the morning to hear all about it. With a sigh of defeat, Drew climbed from her small car, grabbed her bag and headed up to the apartment, preparing herself for the inevitable jeering that she'd receive from Steve when she walked in.

As expected, the light from the TV caught her eye when she walked in.

Here we go, she thought to herself.

"Wow, home at 9 PM? You must have found your soulmate," His raspy voice sounded from the living room. She could almost hear the smirk that was plastered on his lips when she moved herself to sit on the opposite side of the couch from him.

"Don't start," Drew muttered, pulling her legs underneath herself as she tied her blonde waves into a messy bun on the top of her head.

She could actually feel his eyes as they analyzed her demeanor before he let out a little huff, rising from the couch and rustling around in the kitchen for a few moments before returning.

As he passed the armchair that Drew usually occupied he grabbed her favorite blanket. Tossing the woolen kaleidoscope over her knees, he handed her a beer and then sat again, taking a swig out of his own bottle.

They stayed sitting in silence for a moment longer before Steve hummed, picking at the label on his beer.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not yet,” Drew murmured, “just kinda wanna stew in my frustration for a little while.”

Steve huffed out a small chuckle, still just as rich and deep and causing a familiar warmth to curl in her belly.

She hated it.

“He that much of a dick?” Steve asked, tucking his leg up on the couch as he turned to face her.

“Off the scale.”

She could smell the pine and spice from his cologne as he shifted closer.

"Am I on the scale?" He asked, brows raising.

Drew couldn't tell if it was concern or pure cockiness that fueled his question but it dragged a small chuckle from her lips and she could feel herself relaxing. "Yeah it goes, one to Steve Rogers."

"So I beat Porter?" He flashed the most handsome of smiles at her and lifted his beer for a sip.

"Peter," Drew corrected him again. "And we aren't measuring the size of your dick, were measuring how much of a dick you are."

"Wins a win, Drewski." He winked at her and the warmth returned.

"I hate that you do that," she said, picking at her own bottles label now.

"What?" Steve's voice dropped.

"Make me feel better. Steve..." She stopped, unsure she even wanted to ask. "Did you," she cleared her throat, "do you prevent guys in class from asking me out?"

“What? Nah, I mean, I might’ve talked to a guy or two, made sure they really knew what they wanted- but it’s all chill,” Steve shrugged, stretching his arms over the back of the couch.

“Steve! It is not ‘chill’!” Drew exclaimed, turning to face him. “I’m a big girl I can tell guys yes or no on my own.”

“C’mon princess, don’t get all twisted, I was looking out for you.” Steve said, leaning towards her and Drew narrowed her eyes.

“Not a princess.” she said pushing Steve away, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the couch.

She could feel his gaze on her again. Burning a hole into the side of her head as she sunk further into the cushions. Her favorite blanket acting as a barrier between them.

"No," he said finally, "definitely not a princess."

Drew looked over at him, those big blue eyes staring back at her only seemed to glow in the light of the TV. "Why?" She asked softly, "And don't give the whole just protecting me bit."

Steve let out a groan as his head fell back against the couch. "Look okay, I may have told a few of the guys not to mess around with you. That's all." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. She didn't need Steve to protect her or her feelings for that matter. She was an adult who could handle them all the same.

"Why Steve?" She pushed again for an answer but was only met with those same blue eyes as they darkened.

"Because they were saying some real fucked up shit and I didn't appreciate it and you definitely didn't deserve to be talked about that way."

She was taken aback by the way his face suddenly lost all the playfulness that was there a minute ago. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his brows furrowed. Somehow, she still didn’t understand why he wanted to protect her so badly.

"You don't need to do that, Steve." her tone soft, speaking more to herself.

"I'm sorry, honey bee. I didn’t mean to upset you."

"You... you didn't upset me," she told him quietly. "It's just... Why do you want to protect me so much?"

"Because I like you, Drew," he told her, his face serious. "I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"I'm a big girl, Rogers, I can take care of myself, you know?"

Steve huffed and shook his head, "Believe me, I know you can D, I just - if you had heard what those guys were saying, I couldn't - I couldn't let them near you"

Silence fell between them for a moment as Steve moved himself forward just enough so his leg was brushing hers and his arm draped lazily around the back of the couch. His fingers played with the edge of her blanket, his eyes cast downward as Drew watched him.

"Guard dog," Drew whispered, smiling softly and breathing out a small laugh as she shook her head, "That's what Peter called you. I didn't even notice that you'd been protecting me like that until he said it"

"Quill's an asshole," Steve muttered, watching the fluff of the blanket run through his finger tips.

"Steve," Drew placed her hand on his knee, his blue eyes flickering back up to hers, "Thank you,"

“Shut up,” he murmured, his face closing down, but there was something in his expression that Drew couldn’t let go.

“No, really,” she pressed. “I don’t have that many people to lol out for me so…I appreciate it, Steve.”

“Bucky would do the same, or Nat,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Would they?” Drew questioned, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward slightly, invading his space more than she usually would.

“I—“ Steve paused, his gaze flitting across her face, blue eyes lingering just a moment on her mouth as she worried at her bottom lip. Steve sucked in a breath, settling back a little.

Drew furrowed her brow, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach as her roommate distanced himself again.

“You what, Steve?”

“I think they would,” he replied, “but they don’t live with you, D. They don’t watch you leave for a date with a douchebag and sit hoping you walk through that door unharmed, or just hoping you walk through that door at all.”

Drew stared at him for a long moment, watching his deep blue eyes flicker from her to the door.

“You wait for me?” She asked finally. She had never really noticed but thinking back on the last few months, no matter how late she arrived Steve had always been in the same spot on the couch.

Sometimes he said nothing, sometimes he’d ask if she slammed the door a little harder than normal. But he always found a reason to be home while she was on a date.

“I’m hurt you never noticed,” he clutched his chest playfully.

Drew looked into Steve’s eyes and saw actual hurt there, surprising her.

“Steve…that’s really sweet,” She said, leaning her head onto the back of the couch, forgetting Steve’s arm was there until she was resting on it.

Drew didn’t move right away, and Steve didn’t pull away, so she stayed where she was.

“Yeah, that’s me; the sweet one,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Drew’s throat suddenly felt dry. He really did wait for her. And he really did seem hurt. Were their friends right?

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid” she quipped.

Immediate regret when Steve guffawed. And while she mentally kicked herself for that dumb adage, he readjusted and wrapped his arm around her.

He nuzzled against the top of her head, a smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks for the advice, princess.”

"Not a princess," She mumbled with a frown, causing him to laugh.

"There's no way you like Drewski better." He grinned, pulling back enough to look down at her.

Drew laughed. "Honestly? I do."

Steve tossed his head back with a laugh, her favorite kind. His eyes crinkled, mouth hung open and the room filled with the sound that made butterflies in her chest explode.

"Alright, Drewski. You want another beer ?" Steve asked, getting up from the couch and taking the two empty bottles from the coffee table.

"Actually, I need to get out of these clothes. Be right back." She threw the blanket back and got up as well.

"You need help with those ?"

She heard Steve say, a low chuckle left his throat, his voice laced with mischief.

"Behave, Rogers." she answered, sauntering off into her room, passing by Steve, who stood in front of the kitchen island watching her walk away, swaying her hips a little more with each step.

As she shut her bedroom door behind her, Drew rested against it with a sigh. Why am I flirting with him? He's not pushing me away... maybe I should up my game a bit?

Quickly, Drew changed out of her clothes, donning a tank top and a pair of sleep pants before returning to the living area of the apartment. There was a beer already waiting for her beside her favorite spot, which made her smile as she sat down. "Thank you, Steve."

“Gotta keep my favorite girl hydrated,” Steve chuckled, a soft blush warming his cheeks. Drew’s eyes followed where his pinking skin trailed beneath his shirt.

“Your favorite girl, huh?”

“I think Bucky would kill me if I said Natasha was my favorite so… y’know, had to go with my second choice.”

Drew gasped, swatting Steve across his very broad, very firm chest and making him choke out a laugh.

“Rude. You can be honest, Stevie. I won’t let it ruin your star football player, ladies man reputation if you wanna be soft for once. Promise.”

Steve sighed and settled in close again, Drew’s heart rate picking up at the sheer warmth of him against her side.

“You’ve always been my favorite, honey bee.”

She looked up at him to find him staring down at her and the breath caught in her throat under his gaze.

play it cool Drew, don’t flip out.

“Honey bee is cute, how many girls have heard that nickname?” She attempted to recover as the blush tickled at her cheeks.

“Only you,” he said, not looking away.

“You’re very smooth, Rogers,” she huffed when she realized how close they were.

“All part of the charm,” Steve grinned, and Drew laughed, staring as his grin slipped into a pout.

“Cute,” Drew scoffed, but Steve’s eyes lit up.

“You think I’m cute?” He asked quietly, his eyes focused on her lips as she quickly licked them, biting down on her lower lip.

Drew noticed Steve’s breathing getting deeper, heavier, and she looked up to find his gaze had darkened.

"I..."

She hesitated. The words wouldn't come out. Yes, I think you're cute!

"C'mon, don't get shy on me now, Drewski."

Steve's voice had dropped about an octave. Goosebumps tickled to the surface of her skin. She couldn't help but giggle at what was unfolding here.

The smile that spread across his face at the sound sent warmth spreading through her body. He reached up, gently dragging his knuckles along her cheek. Tiny sparks lit up her skin as he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "That's my favorite sound in the world." He rasped searching her eyes before they flickered down to her lips again.

"Steve," she whispered.

"Tell me not to kiss you right now Drew," he said, his lips so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath fanning against her skin. "Tell me to back off and I will, but if you don't..." The words trailed off and she shook her head pushing away every single doubt she had about the man sitting in front of her.

"I won't." She whispered and that's all it took for him to crash his mouth against her own.

Drew gasped into his mouth, her hand instantly moving to rest on the back of his neck as their lips moved in sync with each other. It wasn't long before she could feel him brush his tongue against her lips, asking for entrance, which she happily gave. She could taste the beer he'd been drinking along with mint from the gum he always carried on him, making her moan quietly.

She felt Steve's lips curl up at the soft sound that escaped her throat, pulling another giggle from her. Quickly pressing another kiss to her lips with a smile, he moved to trace her jaw with wet open-mouthed kisses.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered against her skin.

Drew let her head fall back and slightly to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, "Tell me," she breathed.

Steve shook his head, moving to press a kiss to the small freckle at the base of her throat, "Poetry class. First year." he admitted, sitting up and meeting her gaze once more. "I didn't even know what I was doing in that class, and this blonde firecracker sat next to me, and suddenly it turned into my favorite class. She could meet me sarcastic comment for sarcastic comment, and bullied me, and made me question everything, but she also taught me more than that professor did all semester and drove me so insane that I agreed to be her roommate just to be near her."

“Are you close enough now?” Drew breathed out and tangled her fingers into the hair that grew at his nape.

“Not nearly,” he responded against her skin instantly like he had waited his whole life to be asked exactly that.

“And now?” She asked. He leaned back never breaking away but wrapping his arm around her waist and allowing her closer as he kissed his way across her collar bone and she settled into his lap. “Steve,” she urged him for an answer.

“It’ll never be enough,” he hummed. The fresh stubble on his jaw tickled her skin as his fingers worked beneath the fabric of her shirt and up her spine.

Drew shivered and Steve pulled her in closer, hands spreading warm and wide on her back. His lips were trailing up her neck and behind her ear, sucking gently.

Steve pulled back and his eyes darkened as they zeroed in on the mark he left behind, his hands turning possessive on her skin, clutching her too him.

“Steve,” Drew gasped, feeling his bulge grow between her legs. She hesitantly ground down, and Steve grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for a rough kiss.

“Honeybee,” Steve groaned into Drew’s mouth, holding her hips tight as she wound her arms around his neck.

Drew moaned as their teeth clicked against each other. She felt lightheaded with passion. Steve's hands continued to explore her back as his hips bucked up against hers.

She gasped - her panties were already wet, and she was getting impatient as she felt the growing bulge in Steve's pants.

He pulled away abruptly and she whined at the loss of contact.

"Tell me what you want, Drew," he whispered in a sultry voice. "I've been talking an awful lot."

Drew stared at him for a moment. Her heart felt like it wanted to escape her chest as his fingers traced a line up and down her spine, tickling her skin. "I-" she stopped, the words on her tongue but stuck.

"You can tell me no," He said cupping her cheek with his free hand, curling it into her hair. "We do this at your pace."

She shook her head, "it's not that." Drew laughed softly pressing her forehead against his. "I want to, I want you"

Steve sighed softly, "But?"

"but I'm scared." She admitted softly.

Steve kissed the tip of her nose as he cradled her head in his hands. “What are you scared of?” He asked softly. “I hope, not me. I never want you to be scared of me.”

"No, no it's not you I'm scared of," Drew twisted her head and placed a soft kiss to Steve's wrist as his fingers played with the hair at the back of her neck, "I'm scared of what this means, of admitting what we want here, I just - you had another girl in your room today and I just got home from a date... why did it take these things to get us here? Why couldn't we be normal people and just - "

"Be honest?" Steve finished her question, with a soft smirk.

Letting out a breath she was unaware she was holding, Drew nodded and fiddled with the silver chain that sat around Steve's neck, "I just want to make sure we know what we're doing, and not just getting caught up in the moment,"

"Drewski," Steve started catching her brown eyes with his blue ones, his expression soft and caring as his fingertips traced circles into the skin of her back, "There's a reason I'm home every night, watching Love Island with you. Why none of the girls I've brought over ever stayed, and I think there's a reason why you came to sit on the couch with me after your bad dates instead of hiding in your room like you usually do when someone pisses you off."

Her tongue flicked over her bottom lip and she nodded slowly with a small smirk, "It's you and me. It always has been. It just took too long for either of us to realize" she said softly.

Steve smiled at her, nodding, and pressed his lips to hers gently. “You and me Drew, always.” He pulled her closer on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her chest. She could feel her heart beating under his ear, a little fast but steady.

Drew kissed the top of Steve’s head, nuzzling her face into his hair. She realized after a moment that Steve wasn’t moving.

“Are we…cuddling? Are you a cuddler, Rogers?”

“Only for you, honeybee,” Steve murmured against her skin, sinking into the couch with her, pressing Drew further into his arms as he relaxed.

A warm feeling unfurled in her chest, her heart expanding with unknown but pleasant sensations coursing through her as Steve's larger body covered her own. His thick arms wrapping around her waist completely and his scent the only thing she could smell. It was the most comfort she'd felt in a long time.

Their chests rose and fell in sync as they breathed each other in. Drew didn't want to break this beautiful silence even though her mind was begging for more reassurance from him.

Steve raised his hand to brush the strand of hair out of her face at a slow pace, his calloused fingers traveling over her skin heating it in its wake. Like he was savoring every second with her, his blue eyes glittering like snow crystals on a cold winter morning.

"Princess, we take this at whatever pace you feel comfortable with." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his lips warm and soft against her skin.

When he pulled back to meet her gaze she smiled tenderly, the soft thump of his heartbeat calming her nerves.

“What’d I say about the princess, Rogers?” She breathed, a soft laugh escaping her lips at his apologetic grimace.

“I’m ok, Steve. Really.” She paused, bringing her thumb to his lips, tracing them gently as she felt his heartbeat quicken. “I feel safe with you. I trust you.”

Steve kissed her thumb, staring into her eyes. His own heartbeat hammered in his chest as he drew her hand away so he could lean in and kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of her mouth.

His hands slid slowly down her sides, as if he were committing her curves to memory, and halted at her waist. When his fingers slipped under the hem of her tank top and tightened against her skin Drew moaned.

Crushing her chest against his, she deepened their kiss, tilting her head as their tongues entwined. Steve whimpered into her mouth when her thighs clamped around his hips and she raked her fingers through his messy blond hair.

Drew's hips started moving on their own, slowly grinding onto him as heat pooled low in her belly at the feel of his hardness underneath her most sensitive parts.

The deliciously sinful groan that left him at the next grind of their hips together made her bite his lower lip and suck into her mouth. His hands roaming the skin of her back digging in slightly and pulling her flush against him.

"Faster, Drew." He panted into her mouth as her back bowed when his cock hit her clothed clit just right.

A desperate whimper left her lips as she increased the pace which elicited a string of deep moans and a few curses out of Steve.

"Fuck."

Steve's hands traveled up her hips over the sheer lace of her bra, her nipples already peaked through the fabric, almost unbearably sensitive to his touch, like her body unknowingly yearned for him all this time.

Drew dropped her head to his shoulder, panting as she circled her hips. “I need to feel you…”

Steve dipped his thumbs beneath the neck of her top and into her bra, searching out her pebbled nipples and circling them in time to the movement of her hips against him.

“Honey bee,” he whispered lustily, kissing a hot trail across her jaw and down the column of her throat.

“Touch me, Steve…please…” Her voice was a breathy whisper and her hands clutched desperately to him.

Steve tilted his head back, the warmth of his hands leaving her skin as he instead tucked his thumb under her chin until he met her gaze.

“Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life, Steve. Now please fucking touch me.”

Drew’s breath hitched on the last word as Steve moved his thumb to her bottom lip, tugging it down until her mouth naturally parted and he skimmed along the sensitive skin just inside. Eyes not leaving Steve’s, Drew flicked her tongue out over the tip of his thumb, sucking it into her mouth.

His eyes darkened and his lids were low on his cornflower eyes as she watched him trace the movement, breathing laboured and heavy.

"Take off your pants, D."

The low command sent a rush of heat down her spine and she scrambled to take her pajama pants off, lacking any grace as she stumbled out of them halfway across his lap while he bit his lip in amusement.

Drew settled back down straddling him, her damp pale blue panties doing little to cover her, but the way Steve's eyes narrowed in on them and his hands dug into the flesh of her ass told her she didn't need to cover herself from him.

Steve laid a trail of kisses along her neck, lowering himself slowly along her still clothed chest. Nose nudging each of her pebbled nipples, as her breath hitched in her throat.

She lifted herself up on her elbows slightly, eyes finding Steve’s with quick breaths as he pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her belly where her top scrunched up.

“Sweet talker,” Drew teased.

“Only for you,” he winked, looking up at her. “And for the record, you're beautiful all the time. But this view is… perfect.” He mused as his hold tightened on her thigh.

Drew ran one hand down his arm, watching as goosebumps rose on his skin. “My view is pretty perfect too.”

Steve grinned before bending to kiss her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, making her gasp.

With a low chuckle, he trailed down over her abdomen, kissing, nipping, and sucking a tingling path across her skin. When he bypassed the apex of her thighs Drew let out a needy whine. Steve raised his eyes to hers and gave a sly smile.

“You…” she growled in frustration, lifting her hips impatiently.

His large hand splayed across her stomach, pressing her down into the couch and preventing her from moving.

“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded desperately.

“But it’s such fun, honey bee,” he hummed, nipping at the sensitive skin of her thigh.

Drew huffed and Steve chuckled at her indignation, the gruffness of his laugh against her skin sending tingles straight to the depths of her belly.

“Steeeeve,” she whined again, fingers tangling in his hair in an attempt to coax him closer to where she needed him most.

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded, lips curling into a devilish smirk as he sucked a bruise to her thigh and peppered the skin with soft, small kisses until his mouth landed warm and wet over the lace of her panties.

The grip Drew had on Steve’s hair tightened and he groaned into her heat, tongue lapping lazily over the dampening fabric.

“Holy shit,” Drew moaned, her hips arching upward only to be pushed back down again by Steve.

She lifted her head, wanting to watch him as he swirled his tongue over her clothed clit, making her mouth part in pleasure.

She needed him closer and she knew he was teasing her on purpose as he flattened his tongue and increased the pressure on her clit.

“Asshole,” she gasped in desperation, crossing her ankles across the muscular planes of his back as she tried to draw him closer.

“I know, I know,” he mocked huskily, “I’m such a jerk.”

“Ste-“ she began but her words caught in her throat as he pulled the lace of her panties to one side and swept his tongue in a languid stripe through her bare folds.

“Oh— oh God,” Drew whimpered as Steve’s lips wrapped around her clit, sucking lightly between long swirls of his tongue.

Heat pooled in her belly, and there were big, fluttering swoops of desire in her chest. Amongst the surprising sweetness and soft side of Steve, this is what she’d been fucking missing out on too?!

“How’re you holdin’ up, baby?” Steve’s voice, a little rough and dripping from pink, swollen lips sounded from between her legs.

“Don’t you dare stop, Steve.”

Steve grinned, delighted and devilish before he winked and dipped his head again with a murmured, “yes, ma’am.”

Drew gripped Steve’s hair with both hands as she began to rock back and forth. She could feel him play with her, tease and delight her with every stroke of his tongue.

“Fuck- oh!”

Steve growled, leaving one hand on her ass while the other slowly sank two fingers into her soaking heat.

She clenched around them, the new sensation sending thrills of pleasure up her spine as he dragged them in and out of her at an agonisingly slow pace.

Her heaving breaths were almost sobs when he replaced his lips with his thumb, working her clit in time with his fingers as he began to kiss his way back up her body.

He must have paid attention to every inch of her, nudging her tank top up with his nose and pressing his soft, wet lips against her sweat-damp skin until he reached her neck.

Raising himself up and yet never slowing his pace, Steve trailed his nose along her jaw before capturing her mouth in a salacious kiss.

Each drag of his tongue against hers, each catch of his teeth across the wet skin of her lips, felt deliberate as if Steve had worked out the perfect formula to bring Drew right to the brink.

Her whole body was alight with it, muscles tensing and heart racing as her climax coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. She was so close, sighing and whimpering into Steve’s mouth.

“Let go, honey bee. Wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make,” he whispered, lips trailing along the length of her jaw and catching her earlobe gently between his teeth. “Come on, gorgeous girl, I got you.”

That was all Drew needed, the release washed over her like a tidal wave as Steve worked deep inside of her. His lips found hers in a needy, deep kiss while his hand braced her arching back and supported her as she rolled through the intense pleasure.

He groaned as her grip on his hair tightened and everything rushed to her head, forcing her eyes to flutter as the euphoria of the orgasm overtook her. Steve pulled away from her gently, teeth grazing her bottom lip as she worked to catch her breath.

“Fuck, look at you,” Steve smiled, his blue eyes alight with pleasure and desire. “Coming so good for me…”

“I…I can’t…I…Jesus…” Drew gasped, a blissful grin blooming lazily across her face.

“Take it easy,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling his nose against her cheek as his hand came up to cup the other.

His thumb swiped away the beads of sweat from the bridge of her nose and he ghosted his lips across her skin as she tried to slow her breathing and calm her heaving chest.

Drew giggled softly and she used her grip on his hair to angle his lips over her own, their deep kisses becoming soft and sweet.

“You okay?” Steve whispered between kisses. His own skin glistened with a soft pink blush of exertion and Drew wanted to spend the rest of the night covering every inch of it with kisses, tracing each freckle and football scar.

She hummed, nodding her answer into the crook of Steve’s neck before drawing back to meet his gaze, soft and adoring.

“What now?”

“Now,” Steve replied softly, kissing her again as if he just couldn’t help himself, “now I’m hoping you’ll agree to be my favourite and only girl.”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’d be a real idiot to miss out on loving you, D.” Drew beamed, surging forward to kiss Steve again until he drew back suddenly. “Hey, you wanna come to my game next week. Wear my jersey?”

"That sounds like trouble, Steve Rogers." Drew smiled, her cheeks sore from doing it for so long. "

"It's a promise." He disagreed.

A week later she stood in the stands, donning the jersey nervously, heart beating faster than it ever had before as Steve was crushed into the grass by a large defensemen.

"Nice jersey," Bucky tugged on the hem as he slid into the stands behind her and kissed Nat on the cheek.

"Just supporting a friend, Buck." Drew said without taking her eyes off the field.

"You're late," she scolded under her breath.

"I can't watch him play these big games, makes me sick to my stomach," he scowled and his strong hand squeezed Drew's shoulder in support.

“He’ll be fine,” Drew assured. Whether that was for Buck or herself, she didn’t know. She looked over at Bucky and smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

In truth, at the end of the third quarter they weren’t entirely safe and even Drew was chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watched Steve pelt his way across the field.

She bounced on the balls of her feet and worried at the hem of her jersey.

“C’mon Steve!” She yelled every time his fingers touched the ball.

“What’s gotten into you?” Natasha hissed as the players lined up for the start of the final quarter.

“Nothing!” Drew insisted, craning her neck to catch the start of play and tuning out everything else.

God, it was close. As the minutes ticked down Drew, Bucky, and Natasha found themselves pressed against the rail at the edge of the field. They were screaming to high heaven, their arms flailing, as Steve scooped up the ball and launched it with a powerful throw towards Nick Fury, who took off with it down the field.

“Go, go, go!” Drew shrieked, which turned into squeals of victory as Fury landed the ball just before time was called.

She found herself pulled from the mass of celebration and almost dragged over the rail as Steve wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a victorious embrace.

His hungry lips claimed hers, unbothered by their audience, and their breathing grew heavier for an entirely different reason. They were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed the smug glances shared between their friends, or the money that slipped begrudgingly into palms.

“C’mon honey bee,” Steve grinned, hoisting her over the rail. “I want the team to meet my girl.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #college au #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x oc #frat boy steve rogers #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #one shot #fluff #marvelous #steve rogers smut #smut #roommates to lovers

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thesugarclubs-blog · 4 months

Text

Home for Christmas - a Stucky oneshot

warnings: Christmasy fluff, Stucky smut, 18+

word count: 6.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1405650983-home-for-christmas-steve-bucky

Masterlist

Bucky flipped through the TV channels, a beer in his hand and his feet up on the glass coffee table while Alpine purred in his lap. Outside, snow was blanketing New York, almost drowning out the sounds of the city.

And he felt content. For a few heartbeats, he almost dared to say he was happy. It was a dreaded word that Bucky had pushed away for years. He never thought he’d be here. Something inside of him was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because there was always another shoe.

But it never did. He could breathe again. That deadly vine that seemed forever wrapped around his chest had been cut. Ayo was right– he was free.

It had been two years since his Hydra deprogramming. Two years since he and Steve really decided to give a relationship a shot. They could walk down the street, hand in hand, and nobody batted an eyelash. For the first time in his life, Bucky felt like he had a partner who understood him inside and out.

“And that’s 123 for the Knicks and 133 for the Celtics.”

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled, glancing down at Alpine. “Can’t play for shit.”

“Maybe they should let you on the team,” Steve’s voice echoed through the apartment as he shut the door, shaking the snow off of his jacket.

He was as gorgeous as ever, a tall, lean frame, dark blue eyes, a full beard, and his formerly tightly cropped blond hair had grown out. He wore it messier these days and seemed more calm and content.

Steve hung up his brown leather jacket in the closet.

“Feet off the coffee table, Buck.”

Okay, he was still a little uptight.

Bucky offered a challenging smirk.

“Yeah? Who says?”

Steve grinned, strutting toward him and rounding the back of the couch as Bucky tipped his head back. Steve leaned over, humming softly as he kissed him. Sparks rushed down Bucky’s spine.

“Always so combative. You’re a bad influence on our child.”

Bucky grinned, stretching his head back for more kisses.

“Your nose is cold,” he murmured as Steve’s lips found his again, tender and slow and warming Bucky through from the inside out. He shifted on the couch, twisting so they could kiss at a more comfortable angle.

“S’cold out,” Steve hummed, and then because he was the biggest little shit Bucky’s ever known, he cradled Bucky’s cheeks with two ice cold palms.

Bucky yelped, sending Alpine leaping from his lap and Steve falling into fits of giggles.

“Like it’s 1936 all over again,” Bucky muttered, but his eyes were soft and he smiled involuntarily as he watched Steve wipe tears of laughter from his cheeks. “It’s a good job I’m in love with you, ya punk.”

“I see you hung the stockings up while I was out,” Steve said, once he’d recovered himself. “They look good.”

Bucky hummed his acknowledgement, casting his critical eye once more over the mantle on the opposite wall. There were two large red stockings dangling from the ledge, with their names embroidered in sparkling gold thread. Another stocking hung next to them, smaller and forest green in colour, decorated with Alpine’s name.

“Seems like something’s missing though,” Bucky mused.

Steve put his hands on his lips and dragged his bottom lip between his teeth as his blue eyes raked over the space. Bucky was more interested in the way his back arched and tugged at the fabric of his shirt around his stomach. Steve hummed and the muscles in his jaw ticked but he nodded, figuring out the missing piece that Bucky was too distracted to care about.

"We need a tree," he said, turning to look at him with a determined smile.

"There's a lot down the block selling them, if we hurry we could probably grab one..." Bucky started but Steve shook his head.

"Alpine deserves something fresh," he declared.

“Fresh… like fresh out of the ground?” Bucky asked. “Where are you going to find one of those?”

“I’m sure I could find one,” Steve grinned, giving Buck a half smile.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he set his beer down and got to his feet, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. Even after two years, this man still gave him butterflies. He’d been in love with Steve since they were teenagers, but never in his wildest dreams did he think anything would actually happen between them.

Through everything, Steve was his constant. The one person he kept coming back to. They understood each other in a way that Bucky never felt understood by anyone else. Both of them had been ripped from their lives and thrust into a world they were still trying to figure out. But they had each other.

Bucky nuzzled against Steve’s jawline, closing his eyes as his beard rubbed against his skin. He could feel Steve smiling, one hand sliding down to grab Bucky’s ass. He gave it a gentle squeeze as Bucky let out a giggle. He’d never giggled before Steve.

“I kinda like the idea of watching you chop down a tree for me.”

“I can tell,” Steve murmured, pulling back and kissing him. “I was thinking we could drive Upstate. Make a whole day of it.”

Bucky smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.

“I got nothing going on.”

Steve eyed him fondly, blues eyes and small smile gooier than the chocolate fudge brownie from their favourite diner. Bucky knew how Steve’s brain worked, he could almost read the thoughts running through his head.

“You’re glad I get to have nothing goin’ on, Steve. I know. Can we go chop down a tree now, please?”

Steve cleared his throat, huffing out a soft laugh as he hauled Bucky in closer for another kiss.

“Yeah— yeah,” he stammered in that adorable way he did when he knew he’d been caught out. “Go on, pretty boy. Go wrap up warm.”

Bucky turned toward their bedroom, beaming over his shoulder when he felt Steve tap him on the ass playfully; his heart already warm and Steve’s love settling further into his bones.

“Wear that dark blue sweater I love so much!” Steve’s voice carried through their apartment. Bucky smiled to himself as he went to the closet in search of said sweater.

“Since when did we start deciding that you’d pick out my clothes?”

“I don’t,” Bucky turned to see Steve leaning against the doorframe. “That sweater brings out your eyes.”

Blush crept up the back of Bucky’s neck. Images of Steve pressed against a snow covered tree, his nose bitten pink from the cold while they warmed each other up, flickered through his mind. “Fine, I'll wear the sweater.” He said, his voice already hoarse and his belly turning warm.

“Atta boy,” Steve smirked, pushing up from the doorframe and sauntering back to the living room with a cheeky wink.

“Punk,” Bucky called out, his voice cracking a little as he grew more flustered.

He could easily hear Steve’s chuckle at his response and his face split into a broad grin as he pulled the sweater free from the closet and shrugged it over his head.

Eyeing himself in the bedroom mirror he raised a self-critical brow and then raked his hands through the long strands of his hair before fastening them back with the hair tie from his wrist.

"Handsome," Bucky praised and admired his soldier with a soft gaze as Steve and all his muscles came back into view.

Steve cocked his head to the side, a low moan of appreciation vibrating from the base of his throat, "keep looking at me like that darlin' and we won't make it out of this apartment."

"You promised Alpine a tree," Bucky teased and brushed his hand along the leather belt looped around Steve's waist.

Steve bit his bottom lip as he stared into Bucky’s bright blue eyes. “Compromise then… something on the road? We have a bit of a drive to get upstate.”

Bucky grabbed Steve by the waist and pulled him close, feeling his lover’s heart pounding beneath his sweater. His hands slid beneath the soft fabric, greeted with hard muscle and silky skin. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and he licked his lips.

“I got a better idea, sugar. You get me the biggest tree you can…” Bucky reached down to squeeze Steve’s stiff cock through his pants. “And I give you an early Christmas present.”

“You fucking horndog,” Steve chuckled as Bucky peppered his face with kisses, nipping at his earlobe as the embers in his belly exploded into a full-blown forest fire.

He wasn’t very good at self control when it came to Steve. They had a lot of time to make up for, and if he had it his way, they’d have spent the past two years in bed.

“Language, Cap,” Bucky purred before taking a step back, knowing he was leaving Steve aching for more. “Come on. I want a tree, and you’ve got a deal to hold up.”

“You missed the part where I agreed to it,” Steve replied, tossing him a sly smile.

Bucky shrugged.

“Okay, then no road head and no fucking me against a tree.” He turned on the ball of his foot and strutted out the door. “Your loss, Cap!”

Steve’s honeyed laughter poured out of the bedroom as he jogged to catch up, swatting Bucky on the ass.

“I’d love to see you follow through on that threat.”

“I could,” Bucky said defiantly as Steve grabbed the keys and they each gave Alpine a little scratch under the chin goodbye. “If I wanted.”

“I know, baby. Except I also know you find me utterly irresistible.”

Steve winked, with all that clean cut Captain America charm that not so secretly drove Bucky crazy.

“Damn straight, I do.” Bucky pecked Steve on the cheek as they headed out the door. Giving Steve’s pert ass an extra little squeeze, he hurried ahead, leaping over the railing and calling behind him. “Race you to the truck!”

"Hey!" Steve yelled with a laugh though he could hear the dull thud of his footsteps on the pavement behind him as they raced each other outside. Bucky landed on hand on the passenger side door and beamed at his counterpart as he rounded the bed of the truck.

"Retirement has made you slow." Bucky teased as Steve sauntered towards him.

"You cheated." Steve's fingers wrapped into the front of Bucky's sweater, tugging him closer. Bucky's heart hammered in his chest feeling Steve's breath fan across his face.

"Debatable." Bucky breathed leaning into his vanilla scent and pressed his lips to Steve's.

He meant it to be a short, sweet kiss but Steve had other ideas, his other hand sliding around the back of Bucky’s neck to tangle in the hair that was rapidly escaping his hasty bun.

Bucky moaned, parting his lips slightly to deepen their kiss, losing himself in the feel of Steve’s lips and tongue against his. He whined when his love pulled back and nudged his nose against Bucky’s with a low, throaty chuckle.

“Easy there, big guy. You carry on like that and we’ll be giving the neighbours a real show.”

“Don’t care,” Bucky pouted, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck and relishing the soft scratch of Steve’s beard against his skin.

"But what about Alpine's tree? Our little girl will be all bitchy if we don't bring her the tree we promised," Steve whispered in the gravelly voice Bucky loved so much. It immediately sent a shiver down his spine and into his cock.

"She'll be okay if we bring it a little later. I think I can't leave before fucking you inside of that truck, Cap."

His hand gave Steve's butt cheek a squeeze and he pressed his half hard cock against his boyfriend.

Steve couldn't stifle a loud moan and his hands fiddled for the handle of the truck door.

"You're really something else, Buck."

“I can’t help it… you started all of this to begin with!” Buck laughed. He let Steve open the truck door and climb in before he walked around and got in to join him.

“Proud of it,” Steve said smugly. “Anticipation makes it even better.”

Bucky clipped his seatbelt on as the engine rumbled beneath them and Steve double and triple checked the mirrors.

“Look at you, mister safety.”

“Hey!” Steve barked, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s important! It’s snowing, there’s a higher risk of accidents this time of year.”

“You know I fell off a train, right?” Bucky asked. “I think I could handle a fender bender.”

Steve whacked him in the arm as he pulled out of their parking spot and headed down the street. Bucky was fixated on the radio, flipping through stations to try and find something decent. It was all people yapping— stupid people with even stupider opinions. Parker always teased him about being an old man, but the radio was supposed to play music, not bullshit like this.

“You can plug your phone in, Buck.”

“I can’t remember how,” Bucky grumbled.

“Parker taught you.”

“Parker talks almost as much as these clowns on the radio.” He kept flipping through the stations until soft jazz dripped through the speakers and Bucky grinned, leaning back in his seat. “Plus, I found something.”

Steve grinned, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other on Bucky’s thigh.

“My stubborn old man.”

“Yeah, look who’s talkin’, toots. You yelled at the washing machine the other day.”

“They’re supposed to wash your clothes, not sing you a song,” Steve retorted.

Bucky chuckled, staring out the window. For the first time in 80 years, he felt fucking normal. Soft jazz filled the silence between them and a deep sense of peace consumed him. Steve began to hum along as music mixed with the rumble of the engine. If this was the rest of his life, he’d take it.

They should have anticipated the roads being busy. Getting out of the city was never easy but attempting it so close to Christmas was maybe not their smartest move.

Bucky huffed, fidgeting in his seat as the truck moved at a snail's pace. So close to open road and yet still so far.

“Got ants in ya pants?” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow as Bucky twisted in his seat again.

“I’m bored,” he whined. He did that now too, apparently. Noticed the way Steve shifted too and tilted his head as they came to another stop.

“Wanna play a game?”

“I dunno, is it a game of how many times can Bucky make Steve come with just his mouth before we get there?”

“Were you always this horny?”

“Probably,” Bucky shrugged, “didn’t have you like that then though, did I?”

"You could have." Steve smirked as Bucky slid across the bench seat closer to him. His hand gripped the inside of Steve's thigh causing him to suck in a shuddering breath. Those dark blue eyes flicked to Bucky's, "You're playing with fire Sergeant." He rasped.

"I don't mind getting burned," Bucky cooed leaning into him and pressing his lips to the spot just below his ear. Steve let out a low groan gripping the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked beneath his touch. "Whattya say Cap? Should we test that focus of yours?"

Bucky’s hand slid higher, tracing an achingly slow path up the inner seam of Steve’s jeans.

“Buck…” Steve warned, his voice dark and low.

“Just be quiet and enjoy it, Stevie,” Bucky murmured, trailing the tip of his tongue down Steve’s neck.

Bucky’s other hand pulled down on the neckline of Steve’s sweater enough to let him drag his tongue across his collarbone, nipping gently with his teeth as he went, eager to tease out more of the soft groans of pleasure from his lover’s throat.

Bucky's hand pressed firmly to the growing bulge in Steve's pants and a grin formed on his lips as he drew closer to the buckle he so desperately wanted undone.

His thighs tensed as the buckle flipped free and Bucky was able to undo the button that separated them, "the thrill has always done wonders for you," Bucky whispered against his throat as his fingers played at Steve's boxers where they lifted slightly from his skin as his erection begged for attention.

Steve's gaze flickered from the road as Bucky teased the sensitive skin.

"Eyes up, Cap." He laughed breathlessly and tucked his hand into his pants without warning, dragging a sharp hiss from between Steve's lips as he fought to focus on the road ahead.

"What if someone catches us?" Steve hissed, his head pressed back into the headrest, knuckles whitening from the intense grip on the steering wheel.

"Extra point, I know you love the adrenaline." Bucky's hand wrapped around Steve's cock, slowly pumping him towards oblivion.

"God," Steve moaned, his cock hardening with every second.

Bucky's hand was made to be wrapped around Steve's cock. It fit perfectly around it as they were missing puzzle pieces. He knew he would be able to work wonders only with his hand, but his mouth was made to do a better job. They had plenty of occasions in the past years that would prove him right.

"I prefer when you moan my name."

Steve peered down at Bucky, a quick, sharp flit of his dark eyes before they were back on the road.

“I will,” he purred, his hand leaving the wheel and finding home in Bucky’s hair. Steve’s blunt nails against his scalp as he tugged coaxed a whine from Bucky. “When you’ve earned it.”

“Fuck, Stevie. Gonna give you the best damn blow job of your life.”

Bucky gave Steve another soft stroke, freeing his cock from his boxers and earning a rough groan. Hot and heavy in his hand, Bucky wiggled to get comfy before he lowered his mouth, flicking gently over Steve’s slit with his tongue.

“B-Buck—“ Steve stammered.

Bucky hummed, wrapping his lips around just the tip, relishing in the feel of velvety skin, slick and hot in his mouth as he sunk further.

Fuck, he loved this. Would probably always love this. Watching Steve falling apart from the gentlest touch.

Steve moaned again as Bucky alternated between taking him deep down his throat and licking the underside of his cock as he came up for air. One hand now cupping his lover's balls while his other gently drew circles on his hip

"Damn it Buck," he moaned.

Bucky gazed up at Steve as he swirled his tongue through the precum gathered on Steve's tip before taking him back in his mouth, Steve's hip raised to meet his nose as the traffic slowed again and he was able to take advantage and shift position slightly, letting slip a deep moan as his cock hit the back of Bucky's throat and he started to suck.

Steve’s fingers tightened in Bucky’s hair, tugging at the root. The car slowly lurched forward as traffic began to move but the low groan falling from Steve’s lips only egged him on. “Fu- Damnit Buck.”

Bucky smiled around Steve’s length, hollowing his cheeks out and moaning around him. His own erection painfully pressed against his tight denim.

He shifted in his seat, desperate for any friction against the heat of his cock as he continued to take Steve as deep as he could.

He finally came up for air, chest heaving slightly as he rolled his eyes up to scan over Steve’s face.

“You keep sayin’ that, hot stuff. Does it mean you want me to stop or-“ Bucky was cut off by Steve tightening his grip on his hair and his hips bucking decisively upwards, thrusting the head of his cock to the back of Bucky’s throat.

He gagged a little more than he usually would, knowing exactly the effect that sound would have on him. Steve moaned louder, hissing out a curse as Bucky hollowed his cheeks and swirled his tongue around his head.

“Fuck, baby, please…” Steve grunted.

Bucky bobbed his head, gripping his jeans with one hand while gripping the seat with the other. He whined as he felt Steve try his damndest not to fully thrust upwards and continue to drive.

Adrenaline rushed through Bucky, the thrill of someone catching sight of them urging him on in his quest to make Steve come.

“Holy— fuck. Buck, I’m not— I’m not gonna last much longer,” Steve whimpered through gritted teeth, his thigh tensing beneath Bucky’s palm.

Steve rocked his hips up to Bucky’s mouth, the car jerking a little as his foot slipped off the gas and Bucky choked out a laugh around Steve’s cock. The vibrations earned him a louder moan from Steve over the soft jazz already fighting to be heard over the wet, hot sounds of Bucky’s mouth.

“C’mon, baby. Gonna let me taste how sweet y’are?” Bucky breathed, pulling off Steve briefly and leaving a string of slick spit and pre-cum trailing from his lips. He had no doubts about how debauched he looked, or how close Steve was as he gently pushed Bucky’s head back down with a whispered please.

Bucky used his nose to trace the vein down Steve's shaft, pausing to inhale before his tongue licked a stripe between the base and his balls. He raised his face, watching as Steve tensed. He then blew on his tip. He knew Steve was close and this was sometimes his downfall.

Steve groaned and that sound went straight to Bucky's cock.

He took Steve into his mouth, his tongue swirling around his erection before flattening along it and sucking. Bucky couldn't stifle the almighty moan that left him and that proved to be Steve's undoing.

The grip Steve had on his hair tightened even more as he lost the battle with his self-control and thrust his hips up, driving his cock as deep as he could. His release coated the back of Bucky’s throat and he swallowed it eagerly, lapping up every drop.

Straightening in his seat, a cocky smirk on his face, he looked over at Steve; proud of how undone his lover looked. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel so hard Bucky was surprised it hadn’t cracked whilst Steve raked his other hand shakily through his hair, pushing it away from a face that was flushed and beaded with sweat.

“Christ, Buck,” Steve hissed, fleetingly taking his gaze from the road to drag his eyes over Bucky’s smug face.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and made a show of swiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Nice focus you got there, Cap,” he chuckled. “Good to see retirement hasn’t made you lose your edge.”

Steve panted, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Focus, my ass,” he breathed.

“What? Mad at me?” Bucky asked, his eyes growing concerned.

Steve shook his head. “No, I’m not mad,” he assured. "I'll tell you one thing for sure," Bucky grumbled, "This cab is too small for super soldier fun times," straightening up and rotating his shoulder.

Steve grinned at him. "It was your idea, we could have tussled before we left."

"And another thing, our next truck won't have a stick shift and will have tinted windows."

Steve chuckled at Bucky's expression. "Where's the fun in that?"

"We'll see if your views change when I drive us home," Bucky smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at his lover.

Bucky helped Steve back into his trousers with a grin and then they slipped into the familiar, companionable silence that they’d only ever been able to find with each other. Bucky scrabbled about in the glove compartment for one of the many car snacks he had stashed and pulled out a bag of trail mix. Offering the packet to Steve, who declined with a smile, he tipped some into his mouth and then gazed out at the wintery landscape, his hand resting lightly on Steve’s thigh.

It wasn’t too long before they reached the turn-off that was signposted with a giant, hand painted Christmas tree and an arrow directing them which way to go.

The further they drove down the road the more dense the tree line became and soon the highway disappeared leaving them surrounded by snow covered forest.

"It's a winter wonderland out here," Steve said, trying to hide his excitement but the sun caught in his eyes like glitter as he pulled into the parking lot and parked the truck. "Never thought I'd be excited to cut down a tree."

Such a simple tradition but it warmed Bucky from his nose to his toes to see Steve with a smile on his face. Bucky decided in that moment he would help Steve cut down a thousand trees if it kept that boyish, handsome smile on his perfect face.

“It really is something. That’s for sure.” Bucky watched as Steve put on a pair of gloves then got out of the truck. Then he followed suit.

“I wonder what we do first,” Bucky commented as he shrugged his jacket around him tighter. “Or if we just… pick one?”

"Good thing we put our boots on Buck," Steve called, "the snow's deep over here." He turned, just as a snowball smacked into the side of his head."

"Oh Steve, I didn't mean..." he started "Ow," as he disappeared under a huge snowball.

Steve’s hand appeared to help him up and Bucky grasped it, shaking the snow out of his hair and rubbing it out of his scruff.

“Reminds me of my time in Siberia,” he teased but backtracked a little at the horrified look that Steve threw his way. “Sorry, too soon?”

He could have sworn he heard Steve mutter a curse under his breath as he turned away and began trudging through the trees in search of the perfect one. Bucky hurried his steps to catch up to him and nudged his shoulder affectionately.

“Hey, what’s the difference between snowmen and snow-women,” Bucky joked as a peace offering.

Steve grunted and shrugged but Bucky could see the slightest of smiles dancing at the corners of his mouth.

“Snowballs,” he finished with a giggle and was rewarded by a strong arm draping over his shoulder and pulling him into a broad chest.

“You’d have thought with all those years on ice you would’ve come up with some better jokes, Jerk,” Steve teased, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cold temple.

"That joke is timeless," Bucky leaned into his touch, reaching out periodically to brush his fingertips against the branches of the tree.

Laughter from other couples and families filled the air as Steve took his time finding the perfect tree, they walked the rows for what left like hours before he finally hummed a confident sound and pointed.

"That's the one," he said triumphantly.

"That will not fit," Bucky shakes his head at the massive tree, it was at least seven feet tall and four, maybe five feet wide.

"I'll make it fit," Steve sounded determined and a strangled laugh tumbled from Bucky's cool lips. He had heard that more than once in his lifetime. "Later," his sweet, over-achieving boyfriend huffed like he knew exactly what was on Buck's mind.

“I’m telling you, that tree is too big for the apartment, Stevie,” Bucky countered. “You hardly fit in the apartment and this is a lot bigger than you.”

Steve shifted on his feet, hip popped, hands on his waist as he looked at Bucky with a quirked brow.

“Was I, or was I not the greatest strategist of World War Two?”

A laugh burst out of Bucky before he could stop it, growing louder as Steve’s face fell.

“Sorry, sorry. But really? You’re playing that card?” Bucky replied, schooling his features as Steve nodded seriously. “Well in that case, go for it babe. And don’t forget to bend your knees.”

“I’ll bend you in a minute,” Steve muttered, and Bucky grinned as he watched his love eye up the tree.

“Oh, please do.”

"Later, we have an audience," jerking his head towards a family heading towards them.

"So, this one for sure?" Bucky asked, back on task as the couple and young boy stopped to check out the trees in the clearing. "Hand me the saw and I'll make a start felling it."

"Saw? We forgot the saw.." Steve smacked his forehead, then grimaced.

"It's ok," Bucky soothed, "I'll head back to the truck and get it."

“Really? Thanks Buck,” Steve replied with a soft smile.

“No, not really,” Bucky said, smacking the back of his hand against Steve’s chest. “You’re a super soldier, pal, with serum running through your veins. What the hell do you need a damn saw for?!”

“Then how am I supposed to cut the tree down, smart ass?”

“You’re the greatest strategist of World War Two, Steve. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Bucky gave him a wry smile and shoved his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a hip flask and taking a healthy swing.

Steve rolled those pretty blue eyes in his direction and eyed up the tree with his hands on his hips. He looked around, his eyes tracing the path they had made in the snow before he turned and started to count the paces backward.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, watching his tall frame twist at the hip as he stretched out his arms and shoulders. "Steve?"

"Super solider," he huffed, "I'm going to rip it out."

Bucky laughed, "Alright baby, rip it out."

He watched on in awe as Steve crouched down at the base of the tree and wrapped his large hands around the trunk.

He was really going to do it, and Bucky suddenly had the thought to fumble for his phone, opening the camera app. Parker had introduced him to Instagram, and his thousands of followers were going to love this.

“Buck, can you spot me?” Steve asked, getting a good grip on the tree. Bucky zoomed in on his ass, giggling. “Buck? Are you filming this!?”

Bucky nodded as Steve peered over his shoulder, shooting him an incredulous glare.

“You look hot, baby. All macho man yankin’ a tree out the ground. Of course I’m filmin’ this.”

"Really? Are we getting a tree or are you pursuing your career as an 106 year old social media mogul?" Steve stood, taking up his previous stance, hands on hips, whilst waiting for Bucky to pocket his phone.

Bucky shrugged, put his phone away and jogged back over to Steve's side. "What do you need from me?"

Steve crouched again, grasping the trunk again with both hands, "I think I'll need a hand Bucky. Can you get a grip and help me pull?"

"Oh I'll pull something." Bucky teased tossing a wink at Steve who let out an exasperated breath and shook his head.

"Seriously, I know you aren't deprived, since when have you gotten this horny." He laughed readjusting his grip around the trunk as Bucky stood over him and did the same.

"Can't help it pal when you've got an ass like that." Bucky grinned down at him. Steve shook his head again and sighed. "On the count of three?" Bucky asked.

“Yeah, one…” Steve began, taking the strain, his biceps flexing.

“Two,” Bucky continued, readying himself to catch Steve just in case.

“Three,” Steve grunted, bending his knees further and then heaving against the tree.

Bucky expected him to push it over but no, the grandstanding little shit hauled his grip upwards. Sharp cracking and tearing sounds echoed around the forest as Steve ripped the damn tree straight out of the ground.

Bucky’s jaw dropped a little even as Steve threw him a grin of triumph, which quickly turned into a look of panic as his feet slipped on the snow and he began to overbalance.

Bucky laughed, scrambling to keep them both upright as the tree's weight knocked off balance. Both of their massive frames tangled and toppled, sending them crashing into the snow in a mess of limbs and pine needles.

"You gotta be more careful big boy," Bucky picked a few pine needles from the blonde tuffs of Steve's hair. "That might be the most attractive thing I've ever seen you do," he licked his bottom lip and brushed their noses together.

“C’mere,” Steve murmured, and Bucky surged forward, kissing him. Hot and open mouthed and probably way too inappropriately for a Christmas Tree farm.

“Y’know, I think you might have just fulfilled the lumberjack fantasy I didn’t even know I had,” Bucky whispered as he drew back, wiggling his eyebrows.

Steve huffed out a laugh, breath warm against Bucky’s lips. If it weren’t for his jeans getting wetter by the second, he’d lay there in the snow with Steve all day.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve drawled, pressing one last kiss to Bucky’s nose before he hauled himself up to his knees. “Come on, let’s get this tree home to Miss Alpine.”

Steve held out his hand, which Bucky accepted, and he helped him to his feet. Bucky hoisted the tree onto his shoulder as if it was a mere stick and the two men walked hand in hand back towards the truck.

Passing the young family again on the way out, the small boy turned to his Dad, whispering excitedly, "See, I told you it was Captain America."

Steve felt Bucky start to release his hand, he looked into his eyes. "It's ok, Bucky, it's not the forties any longer."

"I know Steve, but so many kids look up to you still, retired or not."

Steve stopped walking, pulling Bucky to a halt. Turning to face him, he raised his free hand to his lover's face, placing a tender kiss on his lips. "Love comes in all shapes and sizes Buck, that's a valuable lesson to teach too y'know."

Bucky's forehead dropped to Steve's as his eyes fell closed. He never thought he'd be able to have a life like this with him. Just the two of them and their fireball of a kitten trying to make it through every day life in a world that had changed twenty times over since they were kids. He let out a soft sigh and pulled back slightly, feeling the overwhelming emotion in his chest rise to his throat. "Sap." he muttered, the corner of his mouth turning upwards as he stared into those dark blue eyes.

Steve grinned at him, his nose bitten pink and lips plump from their kiss before. "C'mon, our daughter is waiting."

With a little wave at the young family the two soldiers made their way back to the car, firmly strapping their prize to the top and Bucky drove them home.

“You wanna make popcorn garlands for it, or newspaper chains like we did with your Ma?” He asked Steve, smiling softly as old memories resurfaced of Christmases long ago.

“Alpine would eat the damn things,” Steve chuckled. “Besides, we don’t need to make do now Buck. Life’s a hell of a lot easier, right?”

“Definitely,” he agreed.

“I still say this giant thing is not going to fit,” Bucky argued as they parked in their usual parking space, back at home.

“It will!” Steve encouraged. “I know it will.”

They quickly undid the cords holding the tree down and lifted it off the truck, carrying it up the stairs to their place.

“Steve, damn it- pick up your end it’s going to hit the wall-”

“It’s not gonna hit the- fuck. It’s just a little scratch Buck, nothing I can’t fix.”

Bucky rolled his eyes deep into his skull before sighing and continuing through to the living room, he and Steve only swearing a handful more times each before the tree was up in the corner.

They stood in front of it, and Bucky tilted his head to the side, holding back laughter.

“Don’t-”

“Greatest strategist my ass!” Bucky burst out, unable to hold back as he stared at the tree, at least a third of it bent against the ceiling.

“It’s not that bad,” Steve countered with a grimace, just as Alpine trotted up to them with a curious yowl. She approached the tree, whiskers twitching, before batting a branch with a paw and wandering away again unbothered.

“Well, that’s what she thinks of that,” Bucky chuckled, brushing past Steve and giving his hip a soft squeeze. “Be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just— wait there,” Bucky insisted as he disappeared into their guest bedroom. He retrieved the bags he had hidden in the closet, brimming with decorations he’d bought in anticipation of getting a tree, and made his way back to the living room, dropping them proudly at Steve’s feet.

“What’s all this? Bucky, when did you…”

“When you were at the VA Christmas fair with Sam last weekend. I figured it’s a special thing, getting to spend Christmas together as a real couple, finally. So I got a few things— well, a lot of things. We can get more, or make some like we used to but—“

His words died on his lips as Steve hauled him into his arms and peppered his mouth and cheeks with kisses.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, quietly against Bucky’s ear. “So much.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him close as a content smile formed over his features. "I love you too, punk." He whispered, burying his face into Steve's neck.

With another yowl behind them, Bucky pulled back looking down at Alpine who hand tangled her paw into a string of garland from the bag. She rolled around at their feet only making the ball of tinsel an even further mess.

"At least she approves of that." Steve laughed kneeling down to untangle their furbaby.

With old-time Christmas songs playing softly in the background it took the two of them a good hour to hang the baubles and garlands that Bucky had bought. Despite Bucky’s protests, Steve was insistent that they hang every single one, using his artistic eye to good effect until finally there was just one piece left.

“Go on,” Bucky urged, pressing the golden star into Steve’s hands. “You do the honours.”

“No, Buck. You do it,” he replied. “You chose all the decorations so you should hang the star.”

They glared stubbornly at each other before bursting out into peals of laughter.

“Together then?” Steve suggested.

“Always.”

It wasn’t easy to fix the star properly onto the top of wonky tree but they managed it together, just as they always had.

Later that evening, surrounded by twinkling lights and the scent of pine, the two curled up together on the couch. Bucky had his nose buried in a book and Steve was studiously sketching a playful Alpine, who was currently batting around a bauble that she’d already managed to liberate from the tree.

Bucky lifted his head and sighed with a contentment he still had a hard time believing in. Here they were in their apartment, all decked out for Christmas, but to Bucky it didn’t really matter where they were. As long as they were together they’d always be home.

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thesugarclubs-blog · 5 months

Text

Someone to you - Loki Laufeyson x OC

warnings: 'who did this to you', hurt/comfort, confessions

word count: 4.9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1400370390-someone-to-you-nesrin

Masterlist

Loki stalked through the corridors of the palace towards the rooms where he knew his brother, the Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three would be planning their next honourable adventure. He’d taken the more circuitous route, past his mother’s chambers, telling himself it was to enable him to glare at a higher proportion of the palace residents. He would never admit that he was looking out for her.

Nesrin. Her name echoed like a ballad in his mind. The rest of the palace shied away from the ice-cold Prince, some even actively avoiding him, but Nesrin… she offered him the most precious smiles and whilst he never returned them, they remained with him even during the darkest hours of his mind.

He stopped by the colonnade where she would normally be sitting with some of the other ladies who usually regarded him with barely-disguised disdain, but today her glorious fall of mahogany hair was nowhere to be seen. Fighting the rising tide of disappointment, he almost missed the sniffling coming from the other side of the pillar he waited by. Recognising the abject misery the sounds portrayed, Loki stepped arrogantly around the column and stopped dead in his tracks. His fists clenched and he began to vibrate with fury at the sight before him.

Sitting on the ground, curled into a ball, Nesrin was staring down at the marble floor with tears streaming down her face. Her body shook and Loki could practically see the fear wafting off of her. How dare anyone scare her. Did someone hurt her? If he were to find a single mark anywhere on her, he'd hunt the entire palace to find who had done it.

Kneeling down, Loki made himself less of a threat towards the young woman. "Nesrin," he murmured, causing her to dart her eyes in his direction. Her hair partly covered her face, but he could see her split lip.

When her eyes locked onto his he saw fear in them. He noticed how she let out a shaky breath. He slowly lifted up his hand and went to move her hair out of her face. She stilled and scurried back a bit until her back hit the pillar.

“I’m not going to hurt you Nesrin, I just want to see if you have any other injuries” Loki spoke softly raising his hands to show he didn’t mean any harm. “Would you let me help?”

Her eyes softened for a brief moment as she nodded. Carefully, he reached for her, trailing his fingers along her hairline and tucked the loose strands behind her ear. Her cheek was pink on the verge of turning a dark shade of purple that only fueled the rage brewing in his chest. Who dared to hurt her?

Loki's jaw ticked with the idea that someone put their hands to her perfect skin. He ran his thumb gently over the marking before cupping her cheek. "Who did this to you?" He asked, his voice a low rumble.

“I…” she stammered, her voice hoarse and timid. “It is nothing you should concern yourself with, my Lord.”

She ducked her head again and her body curled inward as she tried to make herself as insignificant as she obviously felt.

“I would order you to tell me but that is not how I desire our interactions to be shaped, sweet Nesrin,” he said gently.

“I was making my way here to sit and read for a bit. When a young noble - I didn’t recognise him, came up to me and started talking. It started off nice, asking about my day and where I was headed. Then he tried to… I politely declined. But he kept trying to put his hands on me. I pushed him away and… he got mad, he hit me and said some foul things. I ran here to get away from him” she answered, still shaking.

Loki froze. Clearly this young man, if you could call him a man, did not understand the concept of the word no. He would have to figure out who he is and have a conversation with him.

Loki’s lips pursed as he watched her shrinking in on herself slowly. This otherwise beautiful, intelligent woman who warmed every aspect of his life made to feel so small and unworthy.

No. Not his Nesrin.

Tucking his knuckle under her chin, he tilted her dark eyes to meet his, scanning her tear stained features. “Would you be able to identify him if you saw him again?” His head tilted to the side, trying his best to keep the bubbling anger at bay until he had his hands on this young noble.

Nesrin nodded slowly, her black hair falling over her shoulder once more, “but you don’t have to bother yourself with this, your royal highness. Really, I-”

Loki ran his thumb gently over her cheek, stopping her words. His emerald eyes flickering to her split lip once more. Without another word, he stood and extended his hand to help her off the floor. When her soft skin made contact with his, the anger within his chest calmed for a moment, overtaken by the sweet scent of her citrus shampoo as her hair fell back from her shoulders as she tilted her gaze to find his once more.

He gently squeezed her hand in his, feeling how complete it feels to hold it. “Come. We shall figure this out.”

"My lord," Nesrin started to protest but he shook his head.

"Loki."

Her brows knit together, the golden hues in her eyes glistened under the night sky as their gaze met. "Tonight I am Loki." he said gently, trying to erase any of the anger from his voice. He held her hand in his, "Up you go, a creature as beautiful as you should not be crumpled on the ground."

She hesitated, and he could see the uncertainty flickering across her face. Loki wracked his brains to think of a way to reassure her whilst keeping his simmering rage at bay. He’d never been in a situation like this before. He’d usually rely on arrogance or even fear to get what he wanted but this time…

He thought back to what he knew of her, of her kind heart, and a spark of inspiration struck. Using the magic of his illusions he transformed himself into a large dog with a thick shiny black coat and a green leather collar.

Holding up his paw he tilted his head imploringly at her and whined a little. To Loki’s abject relief, Nesrin giggled slightly and reached out her hand, resting it gently atop his soft paw.

Loki then placed his paw back on the ground and lightly nudged his nose into her hand. He lifted his snout back up, looking down the hallway and back at her. He wanted to bring her somewhere that was not so out in the open, somewhere where she could continue to calm down and feel safe. There was only one person in the whole palace who he trusted to do just that while he went to find this ‘man’, his mother.

He began to lead Nesrin the fastest way there walking right next to her, should anyone appear and see her in her frail state. Once they got to the door, Loki pushed it open with his paws. Looking back at Nesrin he walked in and she closely followed.

Loki scanned the room for his mother, finding her eyes in the mirror she sat at across the way. As they stared at each other, Loki quickly changed back to himself, his mother’s eyes unchanging from their sweet expression at the shift, just lifting to follow his.

“My sweet boy, what ails you?” Frigga asked, turning around on her stool, her eyes widening when she saw Nesrin, before narrowing in on her injuries. “I see. Come in, dear girl, let me have a look.”

Loki felt a knot of tension release from between his shoulders at his mother’s words. He turned to Nesrin when she didn’t move, standing slightly behind him. “I promise you’re safe here my- Nesrin,” Loki said, feeling his mother’s eyes boring into the side of his head at his slip.

Frigga raised a single brow as the young woman walked up to her. “Sit here, child. Let me see your face.”

Meanwhile Loki stood and watched, his hands clasped behind his back. “Could you tell me, Nesrin? What did he look like?”

Nesrin pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, quickly wincing as the pain of the cut and bruise forming on her cheek set into her face, “he had dark eyes, and-” she took a breath, closing her eyes and looking down, “blonde hair... I believe there was a small scar on the palm of his hand - I only got a quick glimpse of it before he -“ her voice caught in her throat tugging at Loki's heart, the anger surfacing once more.

“I shall return.” Loki grumbled, turning on his heel and with quick paces striding himself out the door.

He heard her call after him but it was too late. The images of the man standing over her clouded his vision as he made his way down to the common areas. With his fists clenched at his sides he scanned as many faces as he could while moving.

"Brother!" Loki heard the familiar voice holler over the crowds. Thor's wide grin greeted him as the man slapped a hand over Loki's shoulder, halting his mission.

"Not now." He rasped.

Thor's blonde brow raised, "why do you look like you're about to murder someone?"

Loki's green eyes shifted to his brother's.

"Who?" Thor asked, reading the silent rage radiating off of him.

"One of the nobles. Blonde hair, dark eyes. Scar on his palm."

“Ah I sense you mean that oaf Fridrik. What has he done to earn your wrath?”

Fridrik, Loki’s mind seethed, his rage finally finding a target.

“Where?” He snapped, barely having enough patience for his brother’s roundabout conversations.

“Down by the tavern near the Bifrost, the last I saw,” Thor nodded. “Less than a half hour ago. Do you need hel-“

“No,” Loki spat. “This is my purpose alone.”

The god stalked towards the palace door, his fist clenching and unclenching at his sides as he reached it. When he was through with that pillock he was going to regret putting a hand on her until his dying breath. Hell, he was going to be the bearer of his dying breath.

Nobody would ever put a hand on his Nesrin again, not if he had any say in it. And oh how he pleaded the heavens that she'd allow him to have a say after today.

Once he was out of the palace he made his way through the streets and headed to the tavern that Thor had mentioned seeing Fridrik last. He got to the tavern and threw the doors open using his green magic. He looked around at all of the guests within.

“Which one of you is Fridrik” he boomed. His eyes landed on a blonde man sitting at the bar staring back at him with dark eyes. He slowly stood up with a wide smile on his face.

“That would be me, Prince Loki. How can I be of help?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed and he inhaled slowly, chest filling with air and rage, the faintest inkling of pleasure at the fear sinking into his foe’s eyes.

As Loki took a step forwards, Fridrik lifted his hands in appeasement, saying, “My Lord, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but-”

Loki cut him off as he swept through the room, grabbing Fridrik by his collar and slamming his back against the bar, tankards rattling alongside him.

“So you admit there’s something to hear?” Loki asked quietly, and Fridik opened his mouth, only to shut it quickly at the feel of the point of a dagger against his throat.

Fridrik’s eyes widened. “Si-sir…”

“Why did you think that it could ever be acceptable to put your hands on any woman?” He growled, his eyes flashing green.

Fridrik's eyes widened to the point that Loki thought he might hurt himself. "My Lo-Lord, I do not know what--"

Loki pressed the point of his dagger into his skin, knicking it ever so slightly that a trickle of deep red ran down his throat. He leaned in, his chest heaving, "It would be wise to swallow the lie that is about to fall out of your mouth."

The man's words fell short as his mouth snapped shut.

"Tell me Fridrik, do you understand the meaning of the word NO?" He growled.

The sight of Fridrik’s mouth gaping like a codfish sent Loki over the edge. Disappearing his dagger in a wisp of green he gripped the whimpering man by the collar and dragged him outside. The two of them were followed by a parade of tavern patrons as Loki stalked along the street with his captive until they reached the bifrost bridge.

With an almost effortless heave, Loki leaned Fridrik head first over the edge of the structure, allowing him to see first-hand the churning waters below.

“Y-your Highness!” Fridrik squeaked in panic but Loki showed no mercy.

“Here is how this will play out,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “You will return to the palace with me, apologise to the Lady Nesrin and never lay your hands on another woman again. Or…I will cast you over the side and allow the current to take you over the falls and you will be lost between realms for all eternity.”

“N-no, my Prince, I beg of you. I-I will return,” Fridrik whined.

“Damn,” Loki hummed, disappointed.

He raised his eyes and finally noticed the gathered crowd. Keeping one hand in a firm grip on Fridrik’s collar he raised his other in a theatrical gesture, painting a soulless grin on his face as the populace expected from him.

Then, in a flash of green light, the Prince and his quarry vanished.

They appeared mere feet away from the closed doors that led to his precious, unwarrantedly wounded dove and rage bubbled in his chest once more. He let go of Fridrik’s collar in disdain, his chest hitting the floor as he did so. He ran a hand through his raven locks quickly, as the other smoothed over his overcoat. He heard a small whimper coming from the body beside him and he flit his eyes their way catching a lift in Fridik’s shoulders. Loki lifted his boot, placing his foot between his shoulder blades and pressing down stopping the poor attempt.

“Don’t get any ideas maggot. I will drag you in there in pieces if need be.” He seethed.

Taking his foot off the man’s back Loki reached down and pulled him to his feet.

“Now we are going inside, you will keep your head down. You will then apologise to Lady Nesrin for your actions” Loki spoke into the man’s ear.

Loki narrowed his eyes at the man until he nodded before turning the knob and opening the door. He led the man inside, seeing his mother's eyes widen slightly. "Now, apologize," he growled, seeing that Nesrin was sitting in a chair, a cup of tea in her hand.

When she saw who had entered Nesrin stood rapidly, some tea sloshing over the side of her cup as she pressed a hand against her chest.

“Have no fear, my Lady, this black-hearted snake is here for only one thing,” Loki gritted, nudging Fridrik forwards.

“I…I…I apologise…” the cowed man began but his words were cut off by a sharp cry as Loki kicked the back of his legs, sending him crashing to the floor.

“Begging for forgiveness should be done on one’s knees,” the Prince hissed.

Loki pushes the man to his knees and then takes a step back.

Fredrik looks back up to Nesrin. “I … I owe you an apology Lady Nesrin. Please forgive me for my behaviour earlier.”

Nesrin slowly looked up from a spot on the floor she had been staring intently at, her eyes wide with shock and amazement.

“I- Yes, I mean, I do…So long as you truly mean it and never do something like that again,” Nesrin said, gaining confidence by the end, Loki’s chest filling with pride at the sound.

"I promise, "the man nodded. "I will never act so rashly again."

Loki watched as Nesrin nodded in reply and looked up at him as he bent down to grasp Fridrik once more by the collar of his tunic. "You are no longer needed Fridrik... if I hear any word of your disrespect again, you will be meeting my favorite blade."

The shamed Fridrik’s feet barely touched the floor as Loki launched him back out of his mother’s chambers, sending him skidding across the shining marble.

Taking the few steps towards his lady, Loki’s hands twitched at his sides, as if wanted to reach out and grasp Nesrin’s to offer her comfort, but he did not. His earlier rage-fuelled confidence had dissipated and he was left awkward and fumbling.

“Th-thank you, your highness,” Nesrin almost whispered, “you did not have to trouble yourself so on my account.”

“There is much I would do to ensure you are safe and comforted,” he admitted, forgetting all about his matronly audience. “Lady Nesrin, I-“

The door slammed open wide and his brother thundered through.

“Ho, brother! What’s all this I hear about you and that scoundrel Fridrik?”

Loki turned to face his brother huffing out an exasperated breath.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with brother I-" his words were cut short as his breath caught by the sight of his brother making his way straight to Nesrin, his Nesrin.

He saw his hands come up to grasp her's, and anger once more bubbled in his chest threatening to spill. There was no way Nesrin would pay even an ounce of attention to him now that the almighty Thor had noticed her as well.

"My lady, who has done this to you, who dare harm a woman so beautiful as yourself." His brother hummed, voice equal parts authoritative and gentle, his characteristic charm spilling out with them.

"As I was saying, brother, I took care of the situation. No more harm shall come to her."

Thor dropped his hands immediately and turned back to face Loki. He pointed back towards the doors.

“Was that why you came barging towards me asking for the identity of a man with blond hair, dark eyes and a scar on his hand? Ah… I see now. Well, I’m glad that Fridrik has been taken care of. I best be off then. Mother it was lovely seeing you, my lady, brother” Thor said bowing to each of them.

“She seems very kind brother. I know you will be kind to her as well.” Thos whispered into Loki’s ear, “and from how I saw Fridrik scurry off down the hall I dare say we won’t be seeing him anytime soon” He finished as he patted him on his shoulder.

Loki blinked, curious if what he saw was a trick. Was Thor not going to try and charm Nesrin into his arms like he thought? "I will," he assured quietly, letting Thor pat his shoulder again before leaving the room.

Frigga smiled as she stood from her seat. "Loki... son, you've done something very kind and honorable today."

His first thought was that his mother must be using her magic upon him for there was a strange feeling in his chest and his face burned with an unusual sensation.

“You look even more handsome with a bit of colour in your cheeks, my sweet boy.” Frigga whispered as she swept past him in a cloud of perfumed silks, leaving him alone with Nesrin once more.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, risking a glance at his Lady, who regarded him with interest.

“Would you care to escort me out into the balcony, your Highness? I imagine the view from these rooms is rather wondrous,” Nesrin asked softly, dropping into a low curtsy.

He felt his skin flush further as heat creeped slowly up his neck. Loki closed the distance between them, watching her lift her gaze to his, a soft smile gracing her wine colored lips.

He lifted a hand to her cheek hesitantly, stroking her bruised skin softly, his nerve endings practically igniting at the feel of her skin against his.

“It would be my honor, my darling Nesrin.” He voiced, “may I have your hand?”

She smiled wider, slightly wincing from pain giving him her hand. He gently took it in his and led her towards the large windows that doubled as doors leading to a balcony. He opened them with his hand and they stepped out and onto the marble floors.

Loki heard her take in a big breath, he turned to face her and saw wonder in her eyes. “It’s beautiful up here. You can see the whole of Asgard. Oh! And all the colours of the bifrost.” She said in awe.

Loki couldn't help but smile as he watched Nesrin take in all of the colors of the rainbow from The Bifrost and the glittering city in front of them. "I'm glad that you like it," he told her quietly. Silence grew between them for a few moments before Loki decided to speak once more. "How are you? Does it hurt much?"

Nesrin shook her head. "Her Majesty gave me something to put on it to help with the pain and the swelling."

“I cannot bear to see you suffer Lady Nesrin,” Loki almost growled, taking a step closer to her but froze when he saw her stiffen. “I apologise, my Lady.”

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I did not mean to startle you.”

“No, I mean, why do you worry about my suffering?”

She boldly met his eyes and for once Loki did not care about illusions or putting on his mask of noble disdain.

“Because I care about you my dearest one.”

“I do, whenever I see you you seem to have a smile on your face. I’ve also noticed how you will often sit with the children around the grounds and play with them.” He spoke softly taking one of her hands in both of his. She looked at him with slight confusion.

“I didn’t realise you noticed that. You always seem to be in a rush to somewhere when I see you. Or your mind is preoccupied with something” she replied.

Loki only shook his head. "Whenever I see you, my mind is only on you. I might be on my way to do something, but I only think of you, dear Nesrin." He gently caressed her hand with both of his thumbs, sweeping back and forth gently, as his green eyes locked on hers. "It has been that way for a long time. Over two fortnights. Maybe longer."

“I had no idea, your Highness,” she breathed, her other hand coming to rest tentatively atop his. “I never would have dreamed that you…that you might feel the same way as I.”

Loki sucked in a breath, his eyes flying to Nesrin’s and in them he saw the hope that reflected his in his own.

A soft smile spread across Nesrin's lips, her dark eyes remaining locked on his. There was something unfamiliar blooming deep in his chest and for a moment, Loki's flight response tried to take over. It was a trick. No one ever chose him or really saw him around the palace unless he made it so. This deep seated desire that he'd held onto for this girl, the thought of these feelings being returned. It had never occurred to him.

Part of him wanted to vanish, to save himself the strange feeling of love that set into him. But there was something flickering in the gold flecks of her iris' that calmed him. She always had that effect. It didn't matter if it was a fleeting glance, or a moment of conversation in passing, every thought in his mind, every emotion he felt was always calmed by her.

Loki cleared his throat, and took a small step toward her, relishing in the scent of her citrus shampoo once more, "Lady Nesrin I - " One more shaky breath over took his lungs, as his emerald eyes moved out to look over Asgard as he tried to find his words. His confidence.

A soft hand landed on his cheek, as Nesrin turned his face back to her own, the soft smile growing slightly, "Tell me what you're thinking, please"

“I… I really like you, Nesrin,” he murmured. Loki rested his hand over her own, on his cheek. “Would you be interested in me pursuing you?”

He watched her with bated breath, terrified of what her answer would be. He could be patient and kind. He would be, for her. He would be anything she asked of him, so long as she allowed him to be hers as much as her his.

"My Lord, I-" her words stopped just as quickly as they began. She hesitated, and he could feel himself closing off once more. He never should have let these feelings take hold of him.

He swallowed tightly, gaze falling to the sliver of space between them, "If you do not wish this I understand and I shall leave you be My Lady. I will find things other than your smile to help make my days seem lighter."

He felt her index finger slide below his chin, her soft caramel skin caressing his. He let his eyes close before she lifted his eyes to hers with a loving smile.

"You didn't let me finish, My Prince." she tutted. "I will have you... without your armor, Loki Odinson."

There it was again. His natural flight response screaming in his skull, making him believe all the worst possible meanings to the words that just dripped out of her perfect mouth like it was nothing. Her hand on his cheek helped him push away his thoughts and search for clarity in her face. If she'd meant anything by it, she wouldn't still be standing here with him. He leaned slightly into her touch as his green eyes traced over every inch of the smile that tugged on her lips.

"This hardened, stone wall that you carry with you. The one you think no one notices because of who you present yourself to be. The one you've built up over years of trying to keep up with your brother and trying to impress your father..." She continued, "That's not the Loki I want," She whispered, stepping closer and closing the gap between them.

Instinctively, Loki's free hand landed on Nesrin's waist, his fingers anxiously tangling into the soft fabric of her skirt as he waited. His breath was caught in his throat while his mind took in every word she was saying.

"Beautiful Nesrin," Loki whispered, casting his emerald eyes over her features.

She shook her head once, a piece of her soft ebony hair fell forward, but she ignored it, "I want you Loki. The real you. The man who read my favourite book because he saw me reading it in the corridor one day. The man who smiles ever so softly when he walks past me. The man who right now is trying to understand why I'm standing here with him after everything that happened today," she giggled, nudging her nose into his, "My sweet, caring, kind Loki. I am yours,"

Loki let out a shaky breath, controlling every impulse to shield himself off from the happiness that bloomed in his chest. This time, he let it sink in. He let it take over and allowed himself to feel as a proper grin spread onto his lips. His gaze flickered to her lips, then back up her eyes. She nodded her head in silent consent and Loki allowed his free hand to come up and brush that loose piece behind her ear.

"Kiss me," Nesrin whispered, brushing their noses together once more, "Please"

It was all Loki needed to hear. He pressed forward, slotting their lips together, lightly at first. As Nesrin's arms slid around his neck, she deepened the kiss, smiling into his skin. He could have sworn that actual fireworks were exploding over his head, and the mess of butterflies that erupted deep in his belly took him by surprise. She was his. No more hiding or pretending. She was his beacon of light in the darkness that always fell before him and Loki made a silent promise to himself to protect her always.

No one would harm his girl, ever again.

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thesugarclubs-blog · 5 months

Text

Back in the Game - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: strangers to lovers, fluffy first date vibes

word count: 6.4k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1396767302-back-in-the-game-celeste

Masterlist

“When was the last time you saw her?” Sam asked as he poured a mug of coffee for himself. They were sitting in Bucky’s empty apartment. He had finally pulled the trigger and bought a bed, a few dishes, and food but that was enough.

It was starting to feel too comfortable.

“Last week,” Bucky said, flexing his metal fingers and rolling a cloth through them to polish the plates in a sad attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks as he thought about her long dark hair and pretty smile.

“You scrub those any harder and you’re going to corrode them,” Sam laughed. “Did you talk to her?” He asked.

“No,” Bucky grumbled. “She’s-”

“She’s what?”

“Out of my league.” He looked up finally and met Sam’s glare. “How do I flirt with a woman? The last time I did that was-”

“It’s kinda refreshing seeing the White Wolf sweat.” Sam sipped on his coffee and stared at Bucky.

“You’re not being helpful.”

“So she’s pretty?” He assumed, looking at Bucky over his mug.

“She’s beautiful,” I corrected him.

“Go to the bar, practice on some random women, and work that confidence back up man. The next time you see her at the grocery store you can put the moves on her,” he suggested.

Bucky fixed Sam with a blank, unimpressed look - as if it was just that easy - and then blinked slowly before he groaned and ran his warm hand down his face.

"I never used to be like this y'know?"

Sam chuckled and placed his coffee mug down, his voice soft as he gave Bucky's arm a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah, I heard the stories. You got this though, man. You're Bucky Barnes."

He said it like it means something and Bucky scrunched his, unconvinced. He hasn't felt like Bucky Barnes in decades.

Sam tilted his head.

"We could go out tonight."

"No," Bucky grumbled. "I'm busy."

He didn’t want to practice on some random woman in a bar. He wanted to get it right. With her. She was stunning, and Bucky remembered clumsily dropping the orange he was holding when he spotted her in the produce section. He swore there was a halo around her, and that could have been the bad fluorescent lighting, but even she looked good in it.

"Busy polishing your arm, or busy polishing something else?" Sam giggled from behind his mug.

"Samuel..." Bucky warned. “Don’t start with the jokes.”

“That’s my thing.”

“Get a new one.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and shrugged dramatically.

“Okay. Suit yourself. Stay at home and wallow.”

“I am not wallowing!” Bucky snapped. “I’m…”

He let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat. There were very few people he could be vulnerable around, but Sam was one of them. When push came to shove, they counted on each other.

“I’m terrified.”

"Aw Bucky.." Sam started.

"I don't need your sympathy, Sam," Bucky cut him off.

"You weren't getting sympathy," Sam responded, looking him dead in the eyes. "What I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted, was that it might be decades since you worked your magic but things haven't changed as much as you think. She's a woman, and you're all man."

“Would you…just…man, quit wigglin’ your eyebrows at me like that, jeez,” Bucky stammered, his face turning an even brighter shade of crimson.

“Look, even you must have noticed the way those recruits giggle and bat their eyes at you,” Sam pressed.

“That’s not the same thing,” Bucky muttered, his thoughts once again drifting to the way her eyes had brightened when she’d picked up the perfect head of broccoli.

"It is!" Sam exclaimed, eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline in disbelief. "You just don't wanna admit that even after everything, someone might actually want to make you happy. You could kill someone and that intern with the glasses would ask you to do it again!"

Bucky tossed the rag at Sam, who let out a yelp at the amount of force the fabric hit him with. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath. Hums, thumps, and the soft beat of Sam's heart echoed in Bucky's head as his best friend's words replayed over and over. Suddenly the silence was way too loud. With resignation, he met Sam's puppy eyed stare.

"You get one hour," he pointed at Sam, who punched the air gleefully. "And you're buyin'.

A groan left Bucky's throat in response, but Sam ignored it while he put the rag back into the kitchen, winked at Bucky, and left the apartment with another "One hour, loverboy!".

The moment the door closed behind him, Bucky took a deep breath. So deep that he could see his chest expand in the corner of his eyes. Every breath felt heavy but only a bare minimum of oxygen made it into his lungs. As if he was drowning, without even being in water.

He recognized the early signs of his anxiety, but tried to calm himself with massaging his flesh hand with the vibranium fingers, applying enough pressure on the trigger points next to his thumb.

It was only a boy's night out. She probably wasn't even there and he wouldn't use a different woman for a dry run. Nope, not going to happen.

With his head hanging low and his mind too busy to focus on anything else right now, he head into the bathroom to take a shower.

That evening, Bucky met Sam outside their regular haunt, a grin on his friend’s face as he opened the door.

“Let’s get this over with,” Bucky muttered, ducking inside.

“Alright hotshot, what’re you drinkin’?”

Sam bustled him towards the bar, hands on his shoulders and almost bouncing with giddiness.

“Old fashioned,” Bucky murmured to the bartender awaiting their orders.

“Make it two,” Sam added as Bucky turned his back to the bar, scoping out the crowded room.

He was starting to regret agreeing to this. The alcohol wouldn’t do anything to loosen him up and if Sam’s enthusiasm was anything to go by, it was sure to get real tiring, real quick.

Speaking of which, his partner clapped him on the shoulder and not so subtly pointed to a blonde down the bar.

“What about her? She’s hot… and definitely giving you the eye.”

“Yeah, but she’s not—“

Her.

Sam groaned and took a generous gulp of his drink, shaking his head.

“Will you relax, big boy? You’re not marrying her. This isn’t 1920 anymore.”

“I was three in 1920, you jackass,” Bucky snarled.

Sam rolled his eyes and Bucky shifted in his seat. He couldn’t do this, not now. He’d always longed to be the man he was before the train, before Zola, before the brainwashing, but he knew that man died in the snow that day in 1945. He’s never been the same since, even after therapy and pardons… something shifted. He felt alien; thrown into a brand new century that he wasn’t meant to exist in.

“Just… give it a shot. She’s gorgeous.”

Sam gave her a little wave and she giggled, hiding behind her hair as her long fingers wrapped around her glass. She was pretty, with golden hair that fell down her back in gentle curls.

“Sounds like you’re more interested in her than I am,” Bucky grumbled into his drink.

“Okay. Tactic change,” Sam replied. “200 bucks says you’re too big of a coward to hit on the next woman who walks in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. If there was one thing he didn’t lose, it was a bet. Especially not a bet to Sam Wilson.

“You’re on.”

Bucky's heart was in his mouth, as the minutes passed and the bar doors remained closed.

He picked up his glass again. He needed to relax, to tell himself it wasn't a life or death situation, or the end of the world. He took a sip and gulped the liquid down.

Moments passed before the door opened. He managed to take a breath in when he saw it was just a group of guys, hustling each other inside with good natured banter.

"You really are nervous," Sam started, as the door started to swing closed again.

As he took another swig, trying to summon 1942 Bucky, the door swung inwards again. As his eyes rose to look at the entrance, it took every bit of control he had to swallow that mouthful.

A woman walked through the door with bouncing brown waves, a delicate jaw. Bucky’s heart leapt in his chest.

Shit, it was…not her.

The face she revealed when she turned wasn’t the one that’d been haunting his thoughts for the past two months. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t beautiful though.

Catching his eye as she walked over to the bar, the woman smiled sweetly at him before leaning against the wooden bar top, trying to catch the attention of the bartender.

“Look man, she smiled at you. Go shoot your shot,” Sam hissed, nudging him towards the woman.

With a glare at his friend and a final swallow of his drink that he had to force past the knot of nerves in his throat, he squared his shoulders.

“Fine,” he gritted if only to get Sam off his back.

Fixing a smile on his face he turned and took a few steps towards the woman and leaned next to her.

Act casual.

“I’ll drink that,” he said, gesturing to the glass of wine before her.

“What?!” She asked, bemused.

“I mean I’ll buy you,” he tried again, wincing. “No! I mean I’ll get that drink for you.”

Her eyes widened as he stumbled over his words. Instead of responding, she slipped from the stool, giving him the cold shoulder as she disappeared towards the back of the bar.

With a groan, Bucky turned to Sam and glared pointedly. Sam sent a thumbs up and mouthed "Try again." before nodding towards the growing crowd of people.

Bucky licked his lips anxiously, blue eyes trying to casually scan the room like he used to do with Steve at the dance halls. Girls seemed easier to approach in his youth, but maybe he was just filled with Brooklyn-born confidence back then.

With his gut twisting uncomfortably, Bucky let his gaze skip from woman to woman. All of them beautiful but none of them gave him that feeling — the butterflies, the double-time beating of his heart.

God, he hated this.

And then it happened, the door closing and Bucky only quick enough to catch the back of her head but he knew. Brunette waves, no doubt in his mind this time. His eyes settled on her across the room and in his peripherals he sees Sam’s head turn to follow his gaze to the door.

Bucky met his eye briefly before Sam’s thumbs were flying across his phone screen. Bucky’s buzzed in his pocket and he fumbled for it before he scanned the message on the screen.

If you don’t, I will.

Bucky’s head whipped around to tell him to fuck off, but Sam was already striding toward the bathroom, lifting one hand to wave at him without looking.

You’re supposed to be my wingman, he typed back.

His phone lit up again.

That was never part of the bet 💃🏻

“I’m gonna break his phone,” he muttered. “And his fingers.”

When he looked back up at the brunette, she was flicking away tears. And she was alone. Her eyes landed on him for a split second. Was he imagining a brief moment of recognition? Or was he just nervous? She trudged up to the bar and leaned up against it, her tight black tank top rode up her back a little and Bucky stared up at the ceiling, fighting every urge not to stare her down like a creep. He wanted to work on his "game" as Sam called it-- but he didn't want to terrify women.

“Gin and tonic, please. Triple.”

Her voice was husky and laced with grief. She tossed some cash onto the counter and Bucky’s guts twisted. Who the hell made her cry? Before he could even think, he was walking up to the bar and pushing the cash back toward her as he dug his wallet out of his leather jacket.

“It’s on me.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I don’t need a man to take pity on me. Not right now.”

“It ain’t pity…”

“Celeste,” she quietly supplied.

“Celeste,” he repeated, relishing the way her name felt. “I just thought it might put that beautiful smile back on your face.”

He thought he’d messed up again when she turned away from him but to his relief she didn’t walk off.

Shaking out her hair she adjusted her shirt and sniffled a few times. If it hadn’t been for his enhanced hearing he would never have caught her muttering.

“Can’t believe I meet Hot Grocery Store Guy looking like a royal mess. Must think I’m a psycho.”

“I don’t think you’re a— wait. Hot Grocery Store Guy?!”

Celeste snapped her head up, looking a little sheepish as her cheeks flushed a soft pink.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she murmured.

Bucky chuckled and leaned against the bar, his nerves withering away as Celeste huffed out a quiet laugh too.

“I got good ears,” he replied, lips curved into a small smile.

“You got a name too? Unless you want me to call you Hot Grocery Store Guy?”

She smiled properly then, bright and just as gorgeous as he’d seen in the store.

“Bucky. Uh, Bucky Barnes.”

“Oh, okay, so Hot Grocery Store Guy is your middle name,” she replied with a grin. "Got it."

Bucky blushed furiously and swept a hand through his hair.

“Middle name’s Buchanan.”

“The worst President of all time?” She fired back with a teasing smile.

He exhaled, his shoulders shaking with laughter. This woman knew how to humble him. Quick. He liked that. Slowly, he could feel some of that bravado creeping back in.

“You’re killin’ me here, doll.”

Celeste laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and bit her lip. She was so beautiful, with soft freckles that cascaded down her cheekbones, and a few scattered on the bridge of her slightly upturned nose. Her warm brown eyes danced across his face and suddenly, Bucky felt like he wasn’t in control of this anymore.

“I’ll go easy on you from now on.” She licked her lips. “Bucky.”

He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Maybe a little too much. He glanced down at the drink in front of her.

“You gonna let me pay for that?” He asked.

“That depends,” she breathed. “Are you planning on sticking around? 'Cause I could use a drinking buddy."

Bucky beamed.

"I'm here all night."

He could sense Sam exiting the bathroom even before he saw him, the smugness rolling off his friend in waves.

“How ‘bout you grab us a seat, Sweetheart, and I’ll join you in a second, yeah?” Bucky smiled, indicating his head towards Sam’s approaching figure.

“Sure,” she replied, picking up the bulbous gin glass and squeezing his arm before making her way through the bar.

“Well look at you, Tinman. Found your heart after all,” Sam drawled. “Is this the part where you introduce us?”

“No, this is the part where you leave,” Bucky replied, hoping Sam wouldn’t pick up on the desperate note in his voice.

“Leave! Are you kidding me?” Sam scoffs. “Not when the fun is about to start.”

“You just want to see me sweat,” Bucky rolls his eyes a little at that. He loved his friend for making him come here but, right now, he wants to focus on the gorgeous woman that’s waiting for him at the table without Sam’s watchful gaze. He doesn’t want to mess anything up just because his friend is giving him a thumbs-up from across the bar.

“But…”

Bucky gives him a look that says, ‘go or I’ll make you go’. “Fine,” Sam relents to his friends’ wishes and before he turns to leave, he says with a smile, "Good luck!"

"I am going to need it," Bucky murmurs and turns to find her watching their interaction with an amused expression.

“Go get her, tiger.” Sam clapped him on the back and Bucky swatted at him.

“Don’t call me that!” He snapped as he headed back toward Celeste. “So patronizing.”

“You got this, sport!” Sam called. "You're doing great, champ!"

Celeste looked confused while Bucky was blushing furiously as he wandered back to her.

“You gonna introduce me to Captain America?” She asked as she sipped her drink.

“Not until he behaves himself,” Bucky grumbled. He tried to shake off the nerves and climbed back onto the bar stool. “So… where were we?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened and she rested her chin on her hand. “You were doing some pretty awkward flirting, and you still have to pay for my drink.”

His stomach flipped. Right. He forgot about that.

“Oh! Jeez,” he grumbled, digging into his wallet. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What a schmuck, huh?”

She giggled and placed a hand over his metal one. He flinched a little, but she didn’t move it. Her smile was warm and comforting. He could get used to seeing it every day.

“Bucky, it’s fine,” she giggled. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No, no. I offered.” He pulled some cash out of his wallet and handed it to the bartender, shoving a little more into the tip cup. “Sorry. Okay, now where were we?”

“I found an empty booth back there,” she pointed, “I mean, if that’s ok with you? We can sit at the bar if you pref-“

“A booth’s fine, great actually,” he interrupted, eyeing Sam’s shaking shoulders as he edged away.

With a tight smile that still showed a hint of her earlier sadness, Celeste led the way across the bar towards the booths. Bucky followed close behind, his hand hovering at the small of her back, not quite touching.

“This ok?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder.

“Perfect,” he reassured.

They sit down and Bucky picks up the laminated menu, “Would you like something to eat? The pretzels here are amazing.”

“Pretzels?” Celeste asks, baffled at that. “From all of the menu items, a pretzel is the amazing thing here? That is so simple. Pretzels are the same everywhere! You cannot mess up a thing as basic as that.”

“You would be surprised,” Bucky replies, but he accomplished what he wanted – to put a smile on her face again.

“Okay, I’ll give you this one. Let’s order that and some potato skins. Now, those are good.”

With the food order, Bucky decides to ask what has been bothering her since he saw her at the bar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Celeste glanced up from her drink, fingers stilling on the glass.

“Oh, uh…” she hesitated.

“You don’t have to,” Bucky rushed out, “I just— I have good ears… y’know, for listenin’.”

He was internally groaning even as the last word left his lips, but Celeste had her bottom lip tucked under her teeth, eyes sparkling with amusement as she stifled a giggle.

“You really are out of practice, huh?” She replied, but her tone wasn’t teasing, it was soft and understanding.

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered, cheeks flaming, “but even I know that was bad.”

“Self-awareness gets you brownie points,” she said, her lip quirking upwards into a smile.

“Somethin’s gotta,” Bucky winced, taking a swallow of his drink.

“It’s more than most guys have,” Celeste hummed and when he saw her expression change it finally clicked for Bucky what had made her so upset.

“Oh, Sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re cut up over some dumb guy? I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go kick his ass. He obviously needs some of the stupid knockin’ out of him.” Bucky made to get out of his seat but Celeste laughed and dragged him back.

She continued to giggle, covering her face with her hand as he muttered about stupid guys not knowing a good thing when they see one.

“No, no, don’t do that,” she continued to giggle. “He got a good talking to in his voicemail, believe me.”

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not enough.”

She dropped her hands from her face and rested her fingers on his arm, "I'm better now, let's just forget that I got ghosted."

"Ghosted?" His brows scrunched together and Celeste started to laugh again. "I'm not very good with the terms. Will you tell me what happened?" He asked her. "With the ghost?"

She nodded and took a sip of her drink, swallowing it down as she settled into the booth. He liked that she was getting comfortable, her eyes widened a little and her bottom lip went slack. She was enjoying herself and it made him feel wonderful.

“It sounds stupid now that I think about it,” she sighed. “You’re gonna think I’m dumb.”

“I would never!” He gasped, looking mortally offended. “Cross my heart.”

“OK, I matched with this guy on a dating app and we hit it off, even spoke on the phone a couple of times. He talked a good game and we arranged to meet tonight but he never showed. Left me waiting in the restaurant for an hour and a half.”

She gave a little sigh and Bucky’s brows furrowed sympathetically.

“I tried the whole online dating thing too, it’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures. I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at, it’s a lot.”

“Tiger photos?” Celeste laughed. “What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get it either,” Bucky murmured. “Between that and getting random pictures of body parts I didn’t ask to see yet… I, uh…” He let out a chuckle. “I gave up pretty quick. It’s brutal out there. I don’t know how people do it.”

She raised her drink.

“To shitty online dates.”

They clink glasses and Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of her as she sips her drink.

“I’m pretty close to deleting the app myself,” she confessed. “Last month, I went out with this Wall Street guy and all he did was explain Bitcoin to me. Didn’t ask me about myself, my hobbies, just… tried to get me to invest. Come to think of it, I think it was a pyramid scheme. And he was sweating a lot.”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks warming as her eyes lingered on his lips.

“Well, I’d like to know about your hobbies. And I only sweat a medium amount.”

“A medium amount, huh?” She laughed. Celeste took a sip from her drink and pondered a moment. “I like the outdoors. Walks in the park or through the zoo are stress relief for me.”

"The zoo?" Bucky hadn't been, "you'll have to take me, I mean if you want, I don't remember the last time I went to the zoo..."

"Planning our second date already?" Her hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side.

"Well isn't this our first?" He asked her. There was a slight risk she might say no but he was willing to take it.

"And what about our third?" She smiled at him and he nearly fell out of his seat from the fireworks that exploded in his chest. "Where will you take me, I'm taking you to the zoo after all."

Bucky bit his lip, his heart racing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam watching them, chin resting on his hand like he was watching one of those stupid romantic comedies he said he never cried at.

He did. And so did Bucky.

Just two grown men sitting on the couch, pretending they didn’t have emotions during You’ve Got Mail.

“How about a walk through Central Park and dinner? Real dinner.”

“Real dinner?”

Her eyes sparkled and he wanted nothing more than to reach over the table and brush his fingertips across the soft pink flush that stained her cheeks.

“You like sushi?”

“I fucking love sushi,” she whispered. “Are you asking me out, Bucky Hot Grocery Store Guy Barnes?”

He cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink for a bit of liquid courage that he hadn’t actually felt since the ‘40s. The habit was just there. He drummed his metal fingers against the glass and she watched with fascination before her eyes met his.

“I think I might be,” he whispered.

“I’d say yes if you did,” Celeste returned, and it was her hand that slid halfway across the table, her palm up and her fingers outstretched.

Bucky was too dumbstruck to say anything else. He could feel his face burning as he reached out and placed his hand in hers, not able to tear his eyes away from her sweet, smiling face.

A crash sounded from the other side of the bar and Celeste let out a giggle, the direction her eyes were being drawn in told Bucky everything he needed to know.

“What did he do?” He sighed in consternation.

“Fist-bumped the air so hard he fell off his stool,” she replied between bouts of laughter.

Bucky’s head fell as he snorted, then laughed. “I would have paid to see that.”

“I’m pretty sure someone recorded it,” Celeste replied as she felt him grip her hand. “He is Captain America, after all.”

"Beautiful and smart," his eyes flickered to and from her lips, lingering on the corners of her mouth as she pulled the bottom lip between her teeth.

"How does anyone resist that charm?" she asked in a whisper as their bodies grew closer.

"I think you dragged it out of me," he whispered back.

"Kicking and screaming?" She laughed and her breath fanned across his cheeks.

"I'm waving a white flag," he winked at her.

“Well, someone should rescue you,” she chuckled.

He shrugged.

“We could always cut straight to that third date.”

Celeste’s eyes widened and suddenly, a bead of sweat trickled down his spine. He was really taking a leap of faith with this one. And Bucky wasn’t a huge fan of heights.

“You wanna leave your friend all humiliated and alone at the bar?”

Bucky drained his drink and shook his head, brows knitting together.

“Trust me, this won’t be something he gets mad at. One time I ripped off his wings and kicked him off a hellicarrier.”

Celeste choked on her drink and covered her mouth with one hand as she coughed. Bucky winced and looked away. Maybe that was too much.

“Wow, I thought I had shitty co-workers,” she snickered.

When he looked back, she was still laughing, her shoulders shaking and her eyes sparkling.

“Well, I’ve grown.”

“That’s important,” Celeste murmured as her thumb glided gently across his vibranium knuckles.

He couldn’t feel it, but he shivered all the same. She was totally unafraid. She treated him like he was any other guy as blush cascaded down her neck. His t-shirt was starting to feel a little too tight around the base of his throat and he slid his fingers between his skin and the fabric just so he could get a second to breathe. His heart was pounding. She hadn’t even said yes yet, and he was hanging on to every breath she took. Waiting.

Celeste’s lips curled into a smile.

“There’s a great ice cream place near Central Park,” she offered. “Maybe you could buy a gal a waffle cone.”

“I could do that,” he smiled back, his tongue darting out across his bottom lip.

“They even have pistachio, I think.”

“That’s my-“

“Favourite? Yeah, I thought so,” she said and then continued as she took in his curious expression. “You’ve always had a pint of pistachio in your cart in the store.”

Bucky couldn’t help the delighted laughter that bubbled up from his chest. He downed the last of his drink and stood from the booth, holding out his hand.

“Come on then, Beautiful Grocery Store Dame, let’s get some ice cream.”

Celeste blushed as she gently took Bucky’s hand and stood. “Lead the way.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it could burst as he led her out of the bar, turning back to look at her. “The park’s not far. Do you wanna walk? Did you drive here?”

"Walk," she answered quickly and gave his hand a squeeze. They walked through the crowd passed Sam who watched them with a shocked expression.

"Not a word," Bucky shook his head in passing. "Not a damn word Wilson!" He held open the door for Celeste to walk through, expecting her to drop her hold on him but she just tugged him out into the cool air away from the busy sounds of the crowded bar.

"That's better," Celeste nudged him as he scooted her to the inside of the sidewalk and directed them toward the park. "Now we can actually talk."

“Okay, so. You know I have a penchant for the outdoors and zoos,” she began. “Tell me about you.”

Bucky always dreaded this part. This was the reason a lot of his conversations on dating apps didn’t go anywhere. He hated talking about himself. What was there to say? Yeah, I did some casual assassinations for 70 years and got brainwashed and manacled to a chair. Not a big deal. Where did you say you worked again?

“Which version do you want?” He asked.

“I want the Bucky Barnes nobody sees. I know all about Hydra, and about you saving those hostages in New York and about being a big hero. But I want the real you.”

"That's a tall order," he chuckled.

"Almost as tall as you." He snorted and her hand slipped into his with relative ease. “But I think you’re up for it, Sergeant.”

His stomach fluttered and for a second, he was at a loss for words. He was a civilian now. His life was no longer about the fight. His therapist told him he had to find a balance between being a hero and being Bucky, but it wasn’t easy. That life was all he’d known, ever since he got drafted back in ’41.

“I have a cat,” he offered.

Celeste gasped.

“I love cats. Do you have pictures?”

He chuckled.

“So many.” He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of Alpine napping in the sun. “She’s my wallpaper.”

“Oh my God, she’s gorgeous,” Celeste gushed, almost grabbing the phone from Bucky’s hands to take a closer look.

“Second prettiest girl I ever saw,” he said, proud of the way his words caused a flush to creep up the sides of Celeste’s throat. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Promise,” she grinned, releasing her grip on his phone and crossing her heart.

The gesture drew Bucky’s gaze to her chest, which then made him panic that she’d think he was staring, which in turn almost made him stumble over his own feet as they reached the entrance to the park.

“Come on, soldier, both feet,” Celeste chuckled, leading him forwards yet again.

Bucky laughed and shook his head as he regained his balance. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not like this.”

"Do you have-" He attempted to recover, "a cat, or a dog?"

"My apartment doesn't allow them but when I was little I had this grouchy old thing, grey fur, angry as all hell." She laughed and leaned in closer to him, resting her other hand on his chest as she snuggled into his arm. "He was mean until the day he died. You would have gotten along with him."

"Ha, ha," Bucky laughed leaning his chin toward her as they walked. "Okay next," he said trying to grasp at the normality of their conversation, "what do you like to do in your spare time? You know, when you aren't prowling the grocery store for hot men who love pistchio iceream."

“Skydiving. Arson. Um… a little bit of breaking and entering.”

Bucky stared at her for a second before she burst into laughter and leaned up against him, bumping him with her shoulder. She smelled like bergamot and caramel.

“Careful, doll. You’ll give an old man a heart attack pulling stunts like that.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I'll stop for real. I wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, that’s nice of you.”

“I mean, who would pay for my ice cream?” She quipped.

He shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. The more they talked, the more relaxed he felt. Celeste kept him on his toes— literally and metaphorically. He liked that.

“I’m mostly a big reader with no friends,” Celeste laughed.

Bucky pressed a hand to his chest.

“What a coincidence. I’m also a big reader with no friends.”

“You have a friend!” Celeste countered.

“Eh…” Bucky shrugged. “That’s putting it loosely.”

They continued walking along, a slight nuzzle every now and then for warmth.

"What kind of books do you like to read?"

Bucky loved her curiosity. "Mostly science fiction and fantasy. Someone on an app once called me a hot nerd." He thought for a second.

"Goddamnit, he was flirting with me. I'm dumb. I see that now."

Celeste let out a loud burst of laughter- more of a giggle. Bucky's eyebrows shot up and he couldn't help but chuckle

"Something I said?"

Celeste stopped them in their tracks and placed her hands against his chest. He blushed furiously.

"Self-awareness with a small peppering of self-deprecation. You better be careful, President Buchanan, or I just might fall for you."

His heart lept into his throat. He was quick, but she was quicker.

“I’ll race you down there,” he said, trying for smooth but the way Celeste threw her head back and cackled made him think he’d not quite hit the mark.

He laughed with her, and at himself, shaking his head and squeezing her fingers when her hand slipped back into his.

They continued along the path, admiring the late fall afternoon. Leaves crunched beneath their feet and the ducks on the lake seemed to follow them, perhaps hoping for crumbs.

They rounded a bend in the path and the vintage-style ice cream truck appeared, with a thankfully short queue. Joining it, Bucky’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest when Celeste snuggled closed to him, sliding her arm tentatively around his waist underneath his leather jacket.

He smiled down at her, feeling butterflies flutter in his chest. “Are you cold?” He asked softly. “I could offer my jacket?”

"I much prefer it this way," she nuzzled a little closer and knotted her fingers into the fabric to hold him close.

"You might change your mind after ice cream." He teased.

"Maybe, but we can deal with that later." She said, watching him as he ordered two ice creams for them. The waffle cone was warm in his hand and the ice cream cool against their lips as they curved down the path toward the quieter part of the park. She ate her cone quietly, every so often checking to make sure he was still there as if she wasn't attached to him.

"What?" Bucky finally asked, curious enough about what was going on behind her big beautiful eyes.

“You’ve got ice cream on your nose,” she giggled.

“Dammit—“

Bucky blushed and reached for it, but Celeste’s fingers bumped into his. His chest grew tight and suddenly, she was the only thing he could see. The people milling around them didn’t matter, and the sound of the traffic faded into the background as she licked her gorgeous, plump lips.

“Let me?”

His face was so warm, he was surprised he wasn’t melting his cone just by holding it in front of his face. She smiled at him, getting up on her tiptoes to swipe some pistachio ice cream off of his nose and lick her thumb.

“All gone,” she whispered. “You’re back to looking very suave.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to ruin my disguise.”

She was still on her toes, her head tilted back slightly to meet his gaze, and his arm around her waist tightened just a little. It pulled her closer and she fitted against him like she was made to be there.

“Can I-can I try something?” He asked softly with a slight tremor to his words.

“I wish you would,” she whispered back.

James chewed at his bottom lip a moment before he gently rested his fingers under her chin. Then he dipped his head down to place a single chaste kiss to her lips.

A soft whimper left her lips as he pulled back, his hand tickling around her waist unwilling to let her go just yet. She looked up at him, nose cold from the chill air and cheeks red from blushing. "I'm really glad you did," she laughed breathlessly.

For such a tiny kiss Bucky could feel the vibrations of it down to the tips of his toes as he battled with the urge to steal another. Her lips were soft and tasted like ice cream. He just wanted more. For a day he had been so scared to begin, he didn't want it to ever end.

“You still up for dinner?” He asked.

“Tonight?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Sure. I’m not doing anything, and you’re already dressed for a date.”

She clicked her tongue.

“I don’t know… I might need some convincing.”

He frowned and tilted his head. Sam called it his golden retriever head tilt.

“Convincing?”

Celeste beamed and got up on her tiptoes, pressing a slower kiss to his lips. Bucky’s hand slid around the back of her neck as she nipped gently at his bottom lip and he blushed as she tugged on it, releasing it with a gentle pop. He whimpered, his eyelids fluttering as she gazed up at him, batting her eyelashes.

“I think we’re supposed to kiss after the date,” he whispered.

“We’re also supposed to have ice cream after dinner, so we can let some things slide.”

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded. Celeste giggled and nuzzled against him.

“I’d love to have dinner with you, Bucky.”

20 notes · View notes

thesugarclubs-blog · 6 months

Text

Fearless - Yelena Belova x F!OC

warnings: super fluffy, halloween themed love

word count: 3k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1392687021-fearless-amara

Masterlist

“Alright kids,” Sam clapped his hands together, his eyes roamed over everyone in the group with a wide smile on his face. “We’re all here to have fun–”

“But stick with your buddies.” Bucky cut in with a nod and his arms crossed over his chest. “We don’t need anyone getting lost.”

The carnival lights flashed around them while eerie music and the smell of fried food filled the air. Amara was buzzing with excitement. Halloween was her favorite time of year. All of the spooks and haunts that lured people in, the costumes, and candy. Especially the candy. Her mouth watered the moment she spotted the Caramel Apple hut when they first walked in.

Yelena nudged her side before leaning into her. “They do realize we are adults.” She whispered with a grin. Amara bit back a laugh as a throat cleared ahead of them. She glanced up to see Bucky sporting a frown though the amusement in his eyes contradicted it.

“Don’t come running to me when you face a clown Belova.” He challenged.

“Do not worry that pretty little head Barnes,” Yelena smirked, “Amara is scarier than a puny clown.”

Amara laughed and shook her head, “Have you met me?”

Golden eyes landed on her with a smirk, “I have and you are. Do not piss this one off.” Yelena laughed, wrapping her arm around Amara’s shoulders, “she is a fiery one.”

“Oh my god, would you stop.” Amara laughed.

By now even Peter and Kate were snickering together as they watched the exchange. Sam waggled his eyebrows at Amara while Bucky fought to bite back a grin. She was the least scary of them all but Yelena never failed to make her laugh.

"You've all got your wrist bands?" Bucky huffed in weak attempt to hide his amusement.

"Be smart, stay safe," Sam nodded, "meet back here in a few hours for the bus home."

"Aye Aye, Cap!" Peter and Kate chimed at the same time with phony salutes that had Amara doubling over in laughter.

"What should we do first?" Peter tucked his hands into the bomber jacket he wore, his nose already reddened from the chill night air.

"Oh?" Yelena frowned at him, "You're wanting to stay in a group?"

"What's wrong Pete, you scared and need her to protect you?" Kate laughed, pretending to hide behind Amara and pushing her gently in front.

"Hey, leave me out of it," Amara protested. "I'm just here for the candy apples. Anything scarier than that is for you super heroes to deal with."

"Well there's hardly a queue so we can go there and eat them while we're looking around," Kate suggested, knowing just how sweet Amara's tooth was and knowing that she was a dog with a bone until it was sated.

Amara grinned, "Yes!" Pumping her fist in the air, she grabbed Yelena's arm and began to tug her in the stall's direction.

Peter and Kate followed behind them, grumbling good-naturedly but as they approached the stall’s counter they didn’t hesitate with their orders.

Amara grinned and pulled out her tongue at the two Avengers as she reached behind her with her free hand and twined her fingers with Yelena’s. Feeling the ex-assassin squeeze her hand affectionately made Amara’s belly fill with butterflies.

Apples in hand, the group turned to survey the rest of the carnival.

"What did you get?" Yelena asked, leaning further and further into Amara's side as they walked, warming her against the October evening chill.

"Salted caramel with chocolate sprinkles, wh- Lena, you got your own!" She grumbled playfully as Yelena made a point of pouting and eyeing her apple.

"Yeah, but I just got normal caramel. Just one bite? Pretty please?"

"One bite," Amara smiled, holding the apple up to Yelena's lips.

"It could use hot sauce, amore." She mumbled with full cheeks and knocked her body against Amara's.

"If you had your way Yel, everything would have hot sauce." Amara smiled. "Oh! Corn maze?" She pointed toward the well lit, friendly looking maze to their left.

"No way, you picked apples," Yelena spun in a circle, dragging Amara by the hand. "That's where we are going!"

Yelena pointed to a menacing looking construction haunted house with fog dripping from the front door and the faint sounds of people screaming from within its makeshift walls.

"You've got to be kidding me," Amara grumbled, shaking her head. "Haunted houses are so tame."

"Well there'll be nothing for you to worry about then," Yelena grinned, firming up her grip on the other girl's hand. "See you guys at meet up," she yelled over her shoulder at Pete and Kate, who were still bickering about whose turn it was to pay for their candy.

Kate waved back distractedly and Yelena took that as acknowledgement.

“Come on, amore, you’ll love it.”

“I really don’t think I will,” Amara warned but, seeing the shine of excitement in her girl’s eyes, she caved in and allowed herself to be dragged across the trampled grass towards the haunted house.

They approached the door, the chemical smell of artificial fog permeated the air and deadened the sounds from the carnival. A particularly loud screech echoed out from the curtained doorway and Amara jumped despite herself.

“Not loving it, Lena,” Amara muttered as Yelena dragged her further into the structure with a comforting squeeze of her hand.

“I won’t let anything get you, my little scaredy cat,” Yelena whispered, a smile on her face.

And how could Amara not believe her when that smile is the one Yelena reserves only for her?

A man appeared from the left of the doorway in a black ski mask and blood soaked sweater, “what is that corn syrup?” Yelena narrowed her eyes, “blood dries much darker, and not so sticky.”

Amara couldn’t help but laugh, “leave him be,” she said but Yelena’s lack of tack in social situations was helping ease the pace of her racing heart.

"I'm just- you know what nevermind." Yel scrunched her nose up at the man.

"Please do not touch the staff members within the house, if you need assistance or want out at any point there are clearly lit exit signs at the end of most rooms." He pointed to a red sign above the main entrance. "Just like that one. Have fun ladies."

Amara looked at the next doorway, the room beyond was pitch black, she wasn't afraid of haunted houses and she was determined to show Yel that she could be just as fearless as the others. She reached back for Yelena's hand again and moved towards the darkened doorway.

"Are you sure you want to go first?"

Amara laughed,"It's a fairground attraction Yel. There's nothing real here, the worst thing that'll happen is we'll scream." She took her first steps at a pace, "Come on girl, unless you're chicken."

Yelena scoffed in mock-annoyance and followed along after Amara as she plowed on forward and into the first room.

It was quiet, too quiet. A curtain fell across the doorway behind them, cutting out even the flashing lights from the carnival and plunging the room into darkness.

Amara’s breath hitched in her throat and she couldn’t help but grip Yelena’s hand just that little bit tighter.

With their eyes fixed on the figure, as if daring him to move towards them, the two girls began made their way towards the next doorway. As they progressed the figure turned on the spot, watching their every step.

Suddenly the lights went out. Both girls shrieked and clung to each other, their hearts racing out of their chests. The suspense was so palpable they dare not move.

After a few seconds Amara whispered,"it's ok Yel, we'll be ok..."

She could feel Yel freeze," shush, listen..."

A shuffle sounded alongside the sound of metal scraping against wood. Amara felt Yelena’s breath on her cheek and the pounding in her chest eased just a little.

The light flickered once more, which revealed the horrific reality that it wasn’t Yelena at all.

The figure, whose face was crusted with decaying flesh, was standing so close to Amara that she could see the dim lights flicker in its eyes.

With a piercing scream she leapt backwards, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the nightmare before her.

“Yel?” She whispered, peering around as she continued to back up. Yelena was nowhere to be seen and Amara could feel her heartbeat thumping against her ribcage as she hissed,“Lena? Yelena?!”

She kept her eye on the figure who was watching her leave with a gruesome grin until the light changed to a reddish hue indicating she was in the next room.

Spinning on her heel, she was about to shout when her body collided with another and she let out another scream.

“Run!” A husky voice whispered from behind a melted clown mask.

Amara wasn’t waiting, she took off through the darkness, stepping in time with the flashing lights trying to avoid smashing into anything and anyone else as she moved. Her heart was pounding and as much as she hated to admit it, she was terrified.

“Lena!?” She yelled again and rounded a dark corner into a room that was lined with what looked like plastic painting sheets hanging from the ceiling.

Shadows moved across and the flashing lights turned into a dark maroon color as she tried to feel her way through.

Amara sensed, at this moment, she was alone. The low light was oddly comforting and she took a minute to breathe deeply and slow her racing heart. She hadn't a clue how she and Yel had separated, together one second and alone the next.

She looked to see which way she could go next, there was a set of stairs to her right and a door straight ahead.

"Lena!" She shouted behind her into the darkness, and stopped again to listen carefully.

Suddenly ear splitting screams came from ahead, something had truly terrified someone ahead and she could hear footsteps running away.

"Fuck this," she thought, and took to the stairs.

"Yelena? Baby?" Amara asked tentatively, her hands out warily as she approached her.

"Don't! Amara, don't come any closer."

"Yelena, you're safe. It's just a smoke machine."

Amara took another step towards her until Yelena fell into her arms.

"I don't-- I don't like it," Yelena said in broken breaths, Russian accent thicker than usual. Amara swept Yelena's blonde hair from her face, cradling her cheeks in her hands as she pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Come on, let's get you out of here."

The two wove through the obstacles toward the final room of the haunted house. Their fingers tightly tangled together as they kept their eyes on the exit sign.

“Boo!” A worker jumped out from behind a barrier. His hands jutting out and his frame towering over Amara.

She swore under her breath, the sound coming out a scared yelped as Yelena shoved him backwards with her hand, unlinking the two of them and stepping forward.

Adrenaline pumped through her features as she hovered over him pushing him into a wall, “stay back!” She growled when the worker tried to move forward. She tutted at him, waving her finger, “down boy. Stay.”

“Lena,” Amara whispered to her, “it’s ok, he’s just doing his job.”

“He scared you,” she shot a look over her shoulder, clearly very uncomfortable in the situation.

“I’m okay,” Amara pressed a hand to her face.

“No-one gets to do that to you amore, not on my watch.”

“It’s fine Lena, honestly. Come here,” Amara said softly.

Yelena did as she’d been asked and wrapped a protective arm around Amara’s shoulder, glaring at the carnival worker as she did. The guy swallowed nervously and Amara threw him a sympathetic smile.

“H-have a good evening?” The guy stammered, his smile more of a grimace.

“I need a drink,” Yelena muttered once they were out of earshot. “You think I can get good vodka around here?”

Amara huffed a soft laugh, skimming her hand down to link her fingers with Yelena’s.

“We could find the others? Unless you wanna do something else just us?” She asked, peering at Yelena with a bashful smile. “There’s a ferris wheel, I haven’t been on one of those since I was a kid!”

“Well then, amore, then it’s about time your girlfriend took you on one,” Yelena grinned, squeezing her hand gently.

“Say that again?” Amara asked, a blush painting her cheeks.

“What, girlfriend?” Yelena teased, pulling Amara closer to her.

“Yeah, that. I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“Then I’ll say it as often as I can,” Yelena purred as she weaved them through the crowd.

The line for the ferris wheel was longer than the haunted house and the girls waited huddled together, Amara wrapping her arms around Yelena from behind, chin tucked over her shoulder.

“Before we do this, you’re not hiding a fear of heights from me are you?” Amara asked. Yelena peered up at her, an eyebrow raised as if she couldn’t believe the question.

“I did tell you about that time I literally flew a helicopter, right?”

“Just checking!” Amara chuckled, pinching Yelena’s side playfully as they waddled forward together toward the ride.

The line moved quickly, as they held hands and nuzzled noses. Amara could smell the caramel apple on Yelena's lips- it was dizzying.

The sounds of the carnival enveloped them and Amara relished in it. Distant screams of joyful terror drifting over from the haunted house. Bells and whistles from carnival games, kids laughing and running through the crowds. It was perfect. And she couldn't wait to cuddle up on the ferris wheel for a quiet moment with her girlfriend.

They heard the wood and iron frame of the giant wheel creak softly as they neared the front of the queue. Amara craned her neck backwards to stare up at the structure, squinting her eyes against the brightness of the lights that adorned the struts. A thrill of excitement ran through her veins at the thought of being in the car at the very top of the wheel.

A tug on her hand brought her back to the moment as Yelena fished in her pocket for coins to give the ride operator. Amara could have sworn she saw her girl slip the guy a bill or two but she shrugged off the thought when it was their turn to step up to the empty gondola.

Sliding into the seats, Amara sidled right in up against Yelena, relishing in her solid warmth as an arm slid around her snuggly.

With a contented sigh, Amara let her head fall to Yelena’s shoulder, and the wheel set off with a gentle sway as they climbed higher above the lights and sounds of the carnival.

“I’m so happy,” Yelena murmured, voice so quiet Amara nearly missed the soft words spoken into her hair.

Amara's back melted further into the seat, as her stomach fluttered- was it the slight sway of the ferris wheel causing the butterflies? Or maybe it was Yelena's hand, slowly tracing circles against her upper arm.

Maybe it was all of this moment. Everything that added up to this experience. The warmth and love she felt- she never wanted it to end. They were almost at the top and Amara felt as if the butterflies in her stomach were going to burst forth into the crisp, night air.

Yelena nudged her out of her thoughts- "Where did you go, amore?"

“Just…just taking in the moment, Lena,” she smiled, tilting her head slightly to look at the woman beside her.

They were getting high now, the lights of the carnival were a carpet spread below them and the music became more muted the further they climbed.

As they reached the apex of the wheel’s rotation the gondola shuddered as the ride came to a halt. Amara swallowed nervously as the gondola swayed silently with residual motion.

“Lena, it’s not stuck, is it?” She asked nervously.

Yelena shook her head, fingertips skimming tender circles over Amara’s arm.

“I wouldn’t let that happen to you,” Yelena replied, and Amara shifted in her seat to see her a little better.

“What did you do?”

“I just want to enjoy the view with you, my love.”

Yup. She was right. Amara did see Yelena slip the dude a $20. Relief washed over her and a warmth grew in her chest.

"Lena, I-" she paused as the gondola finally slowed. "You're the sweetest."

Yelena chuckled and raised her other hand to Amara's face, lightly tracing her cheek. "That's why you're my girl. I bribe someone and you think I'm sweet."

“You are though,” Amara chuckled, but deeper emotions swirled within the depths of her eyes. “Lena…”

“Amore?”

“I know that we haven’t been together very long but these past few weeks have been amazing.”

“I know, right?” Yelena beamed, squeezing her tighter against her body.

“Look, I just…I need you to know.” Amara took a breath, nerves tingling in her belly under Yelena’s intense gaze. “I love you, Lena.”

“Amore,” Yelena whispered, leaning closer to Amara before cradling her face gently between her palms. “I love you too. More than anything.”

“Anything?”

“Even more than hot sauce,” Yelena admitted.

“Woah. That’s a whole lot,” Amara smiled, tipping her chin towards her love’s as their lips met in a sweet kiss.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x oc #yelena belova au #yelena belova x F!OC #yelena belova oneshot #yelena belova one shot #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #one shot #fluff #marvelous #yelena belova fluff #writing community #writing collaboration #oneshot #spooky season

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thesugarclubs-blog · 7 months

Text

On a Night Like This - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: spooky season friends to lovers, truth or dare, soft confessions, "happy ending" for Bucky, 18+

word count: 9.3k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1389530411-on-a-night-like-this-ophelia

Masterlist

“I can’t believe Sam convinced you to wear that.” Ophelia grinned, holding back the laugh as she watched Bucky fuss with the shrimp costume for the millionth time that night. The tiny chef’s hat wobbled on the costume's large cowl only making it harder for her to contain her laughter.

His signature scowl shot her way. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Ophelia tried to hide the smirk on her lips and held her claws up in mock surrender. The crab costume she was wearing was bulky and weighed more than one would think but she still put it on, along with the fake plush cake headband completing her “Crab-Cake” look. “I’d never laugh.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, never.” He glanced back into the large standing mirror in her apartment again and sighed. “He didn’t convince me. He said he had the costumes taken care of, he just never said what it was.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?” She laughed, gathering her phone and wallet before stuffing them into her pockets. Ophelia glanced back at her grump of a best friend watching him frown at himself in the mirror. “Own your shrimpness Barnes.”

His gaze shot to hers through the mirror, a horrified look on his face. “Do not ever say those words to me again.” He warned though she didn’t miss the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. She laughed and shook her head.

“C’mon Chef we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.”

After playing tetris trying to fit both of them into the car with their costumes on and an uncomfortable thirty minute drive, Ophelia parked her car alongside a row of vehicles parked in front of Sam’s house.

“He really went all out for this,” she said as they climbed out of the vehicle. His front lawn was decorated with skeletons in various positions, jack-o-lanterns lined his walkway and the lights in his upstairs window were all glowing red. She knew his house was older, one of the oldest ones in Delacroix and one of the oldest ones on this road.

Bucky fought with the tiny shrimp legs that lined each side of his torso as he straightened out the costume. “This stupid,” he cursed under his breath as she came around the front of the car to him.

She watched him fight for a moment longer before reaching out and grabbing his frantic hands, “hey,” Ophelia said softly trying to get his attention off of his costume. “The costume is fine,” she urged gently as his brows furrowed down at her.

He let out a sigh before glancing over at the house, “there’s a lot of people here.”

Bucky spoke so softly that she had almost missed what he had said but as they sank in she tugged on his hands. Ophelia knew he still struggled with being in close crowds and she also knew it was the reason he asked her to come with him tonight.

“There is,” she nodded watching him process his anxieties, “you remember what to do when it gets to be too much?”

His eyes found hers once again. “Beg you to take me home?”

Ophelia laughed and shook her head, “You take my hand and squeeze it twice.”

“That’s pretty much the same thing.” He finally grinned down at her, sending a wave of small butterflies through her belly.

She opened her mouth to say something when the door to the home swung open and Sam’s boisterous laugh echoed across the lawn forcing them both to look at their friend doubling over at the sight of them both.

“Bucky Barnes, man you’re lookin’ good,” he wheezed, wiping tear from under his eye.

Ophelia caught the moment Bucky masked his anxiety behind his usual grumpy scowl and she immediately came to his defence.

“Hey, quit it Samuel. A shrimp is far superior to a giant corn cob!” She admonished.

“Alright, alright,” Sam capitulated, his hands raised, but he still chuckled.

"No need to be so crabby Ophelia," Sam continued, laughing at his own joke as he led them out.

"You're such a child, Sam" she retorted whilst Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Where's the hard liquor?" he asked Sam, looking round and only seeing beer in the coolers, "I'm going to need something stronger than bud to get through this."

"Come on Shrimpy, I've got some of the good stuff in especially for you."

Ophelia followed them over to the makeshift bar where a punchbowl of bright green liquid sat alongside pitchers of sangria. And then she got distracted by the iridescent flask Sam pulled out from a cooler under the table.

"Do I get some of the good stuff too?" She asked, eyeing the flask hopefully.

"Not a chance," Bucky replied, jaw tight as his narrowed eyes slid over to her as if to ask 'are you crazy?' At the same time Sam grinned, eyes lighting up.

"If you think you can handle it, sweet thing."

"Sam," Bucky warned and turned to Ophelia, "here, try the green stuff. Looks just as toxic."

The next few moments were spent watching in amusement and Bucky attempted to work with his shrimp costume, fumbling for one of the fancy looking plastic goblets Sam had lined up on the table, and ladling punch without spilling it.

Ophelia took the glass from Bucky, her fingers brushing against his as she pouted comically.

"Yeah, but it didn't come from another freaking dimension," she grumbled under her breath before taking a long sip. Her eye twitched as the strong taste of cheap vodka hit her mixed with sour green apple flavoring. "Jesus, Wilson, you do surgery with this stuff?"

Cap winked at her while he tipped the flask into Bucky's waiting goblet.

"Hey, blame one of those kids out front. Sent them to the liquor store with some cash and they came back with a lot of change, if you know what I mean."

Ophelia shuddered through another drink of the almost literal poison as Bucky giggled to himself before clinking his glass with hers.

"That's my girl," he drawled.

The tone of his words made her cheeks tinge pink, she only hoped that the colorful lights strewn about every corner of the house helped conceal her reaction.

My girl. Bucky always spoke to her sweetly. Soft, cute pet names9 thrown between conversations that Ophelia was sure meant nothing more but the butterflies in her stomach always betrayed her thinking the contrary.

She smiled softly in response and took another swig of the neon green concoction, her face twisting as it burned it's way down her throat.

"So, Mr. Corn Cob" she voiced clearing her throat, "is your corn buttered?"

The joke made Sam laugh obnoxiously loud, his voice bouncing off the walls before being overcome by the music. Bucky just shook his head in faux disappointment, the corner of his mouth trying very hard not to curl up as he sipped from the shining flask.

"Not yet, but I'm... All ears if you wanna give it a go." Sam quipped with a devious smile.

Ophelia choked out a laugh as she glanced around at the people milling about. Some faces she recognized but others she had no idea who they were. "Did you invite all of Delacroix?" She raised a brow glancing up at the oversized corn cob.

Sam grinned, "I tried."

"Seems like you succeeded." Bucky muttered, sliding himself next to her. He grinned before taking a sip from his goblet. She noticed the small tinge of pink that painted his cheeks. She knew he couldn't get drunk no matter how many beers he went through on their normal Friday night dinners but whatever Sam had given him was having the same effect that the toxic green liquid in her cup did.

“They’re only here for bragging rights,” Ophelia snickered, nudging Bucky’s arm. “They just wanna say they’ve been to a party with Captain America.”

“Yeah, OK, I’m shore it’s got nothing to do with Sarah’s amazing gumbo,” Sam grumbled.

“You’re so corn-y Sam,” she fired back, her lip trembling in an effort to hold back a laugh.

Bucky showed no such restraint. He burst out with a guffaw, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leaning into her as he dissolved into chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Sam muttered.

They watched as Sarah approached the small group.

"Well everyone who is anyone is here," she announced. "Time to get this party started! Over to you Captain Corncob."

Sam stepped out towards the centre of the assembled guests. "Welcome everyone, you all look amazing by the way. Thank you all for coming. I want you all to have an amazing night, so eat, drink and be merry, crank up the music and the fun and games will start shortly," raising the bottle in his hand, "Enjoy!"

"Not you big boy!" Sam pointed to Bucky has they made to go back through the house and find a quiet corner. "You're playing truth and dare!"

"Absolutely not!" He tucked behind Ophelia like she may protect him.

"Coward!" Sam laughed walking back toward them.

“Come on, Buck, it’ll be fun!” Ophelia laughed, tugging Bucky back around to her side.

“I don’t wanna,” he groaned, hiding his face into the curve of her neck, warm breath and rough stubble over her jaw as he peered up at her with an adorable pout.

“For me?” She murmured sweetly, pulling out the big guns and giggling as Bucky heaved a sigh, unable to say no.

"Fine." Bucky groaned.

"Oh yeah, let's grill this shrimp." Sam teased, as he manically tiptoed away from them to a quieter place to start the game.

"I'm gonna shuck him up one of these days." Bucky said with a serious face.

Ophelia simply smiled at him, taking one of the spindly arms of his costume in her hand and dragging him along.

"How come you got to ditch the claws but I can't ditch the costume?" He muttered against her ear as they all gathered around Sam's living space. Ophelia smiled up at Bucky as she planted herself on the couch tugging him down next to her.

"Because people still know what I am without the claws." She smirked, "you take that costume off and then you're just Bucky." She mocked his scowl, "no longer the Chef Shellfish you are."

"Shrimp are crustaceans." He grumbled making her laugh as he threw his arm over the back of the couch behind her taking a sip of his drink again.

"Just keep drinking your special go go juice, you'll forget about the costume."

Sam took the main chair between everyone and clapped his hands. "Alright, who's going first?"

Ophelia felt Bucky sink further into the couch trying to hide from their friend though Sam's eyes were already glued to her grumpy companion.

“I’ll go,” Amanda called out.

She lived a few houses away from Sarah and had two amazing kids who were, at present, raising hell in the back yard with AJ and Cass.

She chose truth, and then proceeded to dissolve into a crimson puddle of embarrassed giggles at the admission of exactly how many times she’d imagined Sam in his suit and holding his shield.

“Why would anyone wanna think about that?” Bucky muttered in Ophelia’s ear, which only served to increase her laughter, much to Bucky’s consternation.

“Phee, you’re up,” Sam announced with an evil grin.

“Dare,” Ophelia stated, folding her arms across her chest and smirking at her friend across the circle of chairs.

"Dare? Are you crazy?" Bucky turned to her in disbelief. "You do know how fucked up this crowd is? They'll have you streaking down the street in just your claws."

"Will you not give them any ideas..." Ophelia flustered.

"I don't need ideas," Sam replied, shaking his head. "I've already prepared a tonne of Halloween dares right here ready for my victims."

With that he stood and reached for a jar of folded paper from the shelf behind his chair. "Pick one to discover your fate bahahaha," his impression of Dracula adding to the atmosphere

Ophelia looked up at Sam as he held out the jar towards her.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Bucky muttered under his breath.

A low groan of annoyance left her lips as she opened the sheet of paper and read what was on it. "You have to be kidding me?" She looked at Sam with discontent.

"Well read it out loud, pretty girl," Sam kicked her shoe with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Spend a night at Skinner's park," Ophelia balled up the piece of paper and chucked it at him. "That place gives me the creeps, Wilson!"

"Well you can always turn it down but there is a punishment for that," he set the bowl down and crossed his arms. "But you aren't going to like it."

"What is it?" She asked with apprehension. Knowing Sam, the punishment could be worse but at least she'll know her options.

"Tell us a secret."

He offered with a shrug, the smirk on his face telling her the kind of secret he was after. Her suspicions further confirmed when Sarah's eyes bounced between her and Bucky with a barely concealed smile.

Her heart beat faster, the man beside Ophelia glanced at her with concern. His brows dipping in question when she hesitated a moment too long. She made up her mind then, better to spend a few hours at a park— haunted or not, than confess something and embarass herself.

She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp before focusing her narrowed eyes on Sam again.

"You're evil, Sam Wilson."

She muttered before getting up from her chair. Sam's laugh echoing in their small group.

Beside her, Bucky knocked back the rest of his own drink, placing his empty cup down on the side table before swiping his hands down the front of his costume. He heaved himself up from the couch with an intake of breath, causing Ophelia to look at him sharply.

"What are you doing?"

"Coming with you," he replied nonchalantly, pocketing his phone and retrieving Ophelia's clutch from the floor. Across from them, Sam cleared his throat, wiggling his eyebrows when Ophelia shot him a look.

"I'm a big girl, Buck. I'm sure I can handle a playground."

Bucky tilted his head, stare incredulous. Ophelia hated how well he knew her sometimes.

"Abandoned playground, Sunshine. You've seen that place in daylight and said it gave you the creeps, you think I'm about to let you go there alone now?"

Ophelia couldn’t deny the swell of warmth in her chest at his words, but she could feel Sam’s eyes glued to her face. She pointedly did not look at anyone as she pushed herself off the couch to stand next to Bucky.

“My knight in shining shrimp,” Ophelia said sarcastically, bumping her arm against Bucky’s side with a grin. He knocked her back as Sam spoke up.

“Alright, alright, get going you two. Here’s a flashlight and we’ll see you in the morning,” Sam winked as he ushered them out of the room to catcalls and laughter, the rest of the group continuing the game.

Ophelia took the flashlight, anxiety filling her throat as she and Bucky headed toward the car where again they struggled getting into their seats, maneuvering in every which way with their costumes on until they finally settled.

"You don't have to do this you know. We could just say we did and go home." Bucky suggested as he fished the keys out of his shrimpy attire and started the car.

"Sam will know if we didn't go." Ophelia insisted, staring straight out the window at the darkness, her hands becoming clammy as she gripped the flashlight.

"There is literally no way he would know." He pointed out but Ophelia shot him a sharp look.

"I am a crab cake, not a chicken. I'm doing this, now drive shrimp man!" She said confidently.

Bucky chuckled and threw the car into drive, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"How scary can it be at night?" She huffed leaning back in the seat as they made the short drive down to the end of Sam's neighborhood, "it's not like it's haunted." Ophelia glanced over at him and watched as his bottom lip took home between his teeth. "Right?" She said narrowing her eyes at him.

"What have you heard about the park?" He said after a moment of silence.

"Just that it was an old playground back in the early forties. That they've tried to remodel it but everytime they get a chance something goes wrong." Ophelia sighed, "sounds like bad luck to me."

"Or," Bucky offered, "something else was at work. They gave up in the early nineties trying to fix it. They deemed it a historical site and no one's touched it since." He pulled the car up to the curb and glanced past her into the darkness. "Not even Sam will step foot out here."

Her mouth dropped as she looked over at him, "Wilson won't even come here but he put it as a dare!?" She screeched as the nervousness she had before crept back into her bones. Bucky grinned and shook his head.

"Should've told a secret instead."

Her cheeks flamed at his response and she was pretty sure at this point they matched the color of her costume. "I'm not wearing this all night if I have to be stuck here." She grumbled.

“Thank God,” he muttered as he pulled over and shifted the car into park. “I really hoped you’d want to get it off…your clothes I mean. No! The costume!”

Ophelia felt her cheeks flame as bright as Bucky’s at his fumble and they both giggled awkwardly. She stepped out of the car and managed to wiggle her way out of the foam and Velcro prison as she listened to the noises of a similar struggle from the other side of the car.

“Phee?” Bucky called plaintively. “Can you help me?”

She walked around to his side of the car and had to swallow a gulp of laughter at the sight of her friend with his left arm fixed in what looked like an incredibly uncomfortable position.

“What’s up, Buck?” She asked:

“One of the little legs is stuck in the plates of my arm,” he huffed, pulling against the fabric of the costume once more.

Ophelia couldn't contain her laughter and Bucky continued to struggle. "You look like you're fighting a giant shrimp," she howled. "Stand still," she gulped,"let me help you."

Bucky stopped struggling as she reached into the costume, running her fingers along the plates of his arm, looking for the snag.

Ophelia was still a little breathless from her bout of laughter, but when she raised her eyes to look at Bucky, her breath hitched for an entirely new reason.

As his arm popped free of the costume, the plates sliding and clicking silently back into place in the cool night air. "Thanks," his chest rose and fell slowly, their eyes still locked together. "Almost didn't make it out of that," he said, the corner of his mouth curling up.

"It was a close one," Ophelia said back, not meaning to whisper but unsure of where her voice had gone. It was hard enough to concentrate around him but with his ocean eyes reflecting the stars back at her she seemed to lose all her senses.

"Luckily you were here to save me," he nudged her out of the trance, breaking their eye contact and taking a full step back from her. Politely putting the space between them like he did, protecting her boundaries and keeping her at a safe distance so they could continue to be just friends.

Ophelia tried to not let the pang of dissappointmet she felt in her heart show on her face when he took that step back.

She wanted to be more than friends with Bucky Barnes, always had since the moment she'd first seen him across the street laughing while carrying a box in the place he now calls home. It was hard not to fall for him, grumpy resting face and all.

"Come on," he broke her out of her thoughts as he took her hand in his and started toward the park, "let's get this dare over with so we can go home and watch a movie."

"Yeah." She answered a little breathlessly.

She pointedly ignored how his touch sparked against her skin as it always did, and ignored the butterflies taking flight because of his stupidly gorgeous smile aimed at her.

Each step towards the playground was accompanied by the crunch of leaves, the wind picking up and swirling them around at their feet.

"I hate Halloween," Ophelia murmured, her grip on Bucky's hand tightening as they got closer to the entrance.

"I thought it was your favourite holiday?" Bucky asked, squeezing her hand in reassurance as they stopped in front of the iron gate.

"Nope. Not anymore. Fuckin' Wilson, ruining all the fun shit for me," she grumbled, glancing up at Bucky as she sucked in a steadying breath. Ophelia placed a hand on the gate, drawing it back like she'd been burnt when an eerie creak echoed into the dark with just the slightest push.

Bucky chuckled softly beside her, tucking her under his arm and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"Come on, brave girl. If the ghoulies come out to play, I'll protect you."

Ophelia dragged her feet through the leaves and piles of sand that littered the ground, breathing in the spicy sweet smell of his shirt. It did a little bit to quell her fear but not her irritation.

"How you gonna punch a ghost, Sarge?" she asked sarcastically, squinting her eyes up at his amused face. "We watched Casper, it's going to go right through!"

Bucky snickered even more and Ophelia's butterflies went batshit at the sight of his nose scrunching up.

"Oh, come on, you know that shit isn't-" Bucky whispered. They passed through a line of worn oaks lined with moss when his expression suddenly grew serious, ocean eyes wide. "What was that noise?"

“Bucky I swear-“ Ophelia cut off as a warm hand pressed against her mouth, a quiet hiss in her ear. They stood silently before she heard a quiet rustle to her left.

Before Bucky could do more than place himself in front of Ophelia, a baby deer burst out a tangle of bushes, startling them and running past, through the open gate and back into the woods.

Ophelia stood still for a second before she burst into laughter, pressing her hands to her face to stifle her snickers.

“Oh my god! You- and it was just a baby!” Giggles nearing hysteria as the shock and adrenaline mixed with relief, Ophelia grabbed Bucky’s hand and dragged him to the swings as he scowled.

She resisted the urge to skip gleefully like a child toward the swings, their familiarity giving her comfort in the dark, overgrown playground. Despite her relief at the sounds being just a deer, the place was still unnervingly spooky. It felt like the trees were judging her, laughing as they swayed in the wind, whispering to each other that they'd have her leaving that place before sun-up screaming like a crazy person.

She wouldn't let the trees or the darkness win, she would sit happily on the swings ignoring everything until the morning. Bucky didn't seem to think that was a good idea though.

"Please tell me you're not actually getting on that thing." He questioned when she let go of his hand and took hold of the dangling chains.

"I like the swings." Ophelia said mousey, a pout on her face.

"That thing is not up to code. It- it's covered in rust." He pointed out, swatting her hands from the swings.

"It's a swing." She laughed. "They're never up to code."

"Yeah, but other swings won't give you Tetanus." Bucky quipped.

"I am swinging on the swing shrimp man." She snipped playfully.

"Fine, but if we end up in the ER tonight I'm telling you I told you so." He huffed folding his arms across his chest.

Ophelia spun around, grabbing the chains and lowered herself onto the rickety seat. The metal whined as it braced against her weight and for a moment she almost regretted sitting on them. "See, they're fine!" She said tentatively picking up her feet to sway back and forth.

"Darlin' those swings are anything but fine." He drawled letting his arms down with a sigh.

"Quit being an old man and come have some fun." She goaded, grinning wide and ignoring the butterflies in her belly at the name. Bucky huffed again moved to the swing next to her, carefully lowering himself down. As soon as his ass hit the seat the structure let out a loud creak and she swore it shuddered under their weight, and yet it still held them up. She noticed his feet still firmly planted in the dirt but that didn't deter her from swinging gently next to him.

As she swung, Ophelia thought aloud,"I think I've been played tonight."

"What do you mean Phee?" Bucky replied, a puzzled look passing across his features.

"Don't try looking so innocent. You never wanted to go to the party, and I only got one drink before we ended up here Bucky. Everyone else is still at the party!"

'Hey, you chose dare, and I didn't need to come with you! How have I played you?"

The readhead jumped off the still moving swing seat and spun to face Bucky. She was just about to let rip her frustration when a movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She froze.

"What is it Doll?" Bucky tried to look over his shoulder in the direction she was looking.

Chills ran up her spine and licked at the tips of her fingers as her eyes scanned the tree line that bordered the park. "I could have sworn I saw something," she narrowed her eyes.

"Like what?" Buck straightened out standing up to look with her.

The trees seemed to sway against each other, the crunchy leaves creating a chorus that tangled with the breeze. A loud whooshing noise from their left made Ophelia yelp loudly and press her back against Bucky's chest.

His large, warm hand looped around her middle, pulling her back against his chest as he dipped his chin down and his lips brushed her skin as he spoke into her ear. "Don't move."

Ophelia couldn’t help the shiver that raced through her, pressing her back further into Bucky’s broad chest. He tightened his arm around her waist, his vibranium arm up and out in front of them.

Suddenly everything went quiet. The playground was eerily still for a moment and Ophelia held her breath. But nothing happened, except the general noises of nature coming back.

There was no more whooshing wind or cracking branches, and Bucky hesitantly lowered his metal arm.

“Are you okay?” he asked Ophelia, slowly releasing his hold on her.

Ophelia blinked, feeling oddly calm, until his arms were gone from her body, and then the panic settled back in.

She shivered at the loss of Bucky’s warmth, wishing she’d thought to layer up under her costume now that she was exposed to the chilly air.

“It’s gotten colder,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I think I left a jacket in your trunk, you want me to go—“

“Don’t you dare leave me, Bucky.”

Bucky held up his hands in defence, biting his lip in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Come here, you,” he murmured, reaching for her, “gotta do everything round here. Keep you warm, ward off ghosts… honestly.”

He huffed, but Ophelia could feel the gentle shake of his laughter as he wrapped his arms around her, his super soldier heat rolling off him in waves as she snuggled into his chest.

"Thought you didn't believe in that stuff," she murmured into the dark.

She leaned back further into his hold, resisting the urge to wiggle with glee. The change in how she felt only occurred a few months ago and being this close was almost overwhelming. The ridiculous shrimp costume hid all the hard edges of his body; now that he didn't have it on, Ophelia thought she might melt at his feet.

"Yeah, well, when you've fought aliens, something undead doesn't seem too unreasonable," Bucky chuckled, his hands resting gently on her stomach and his breath tickling her cheek.

A bonechilling whisper ominously cut through the air, sounding so much like the word James that Bucky jumped. He whirled around, only a hint of panic in his eyes. Ophelia's heart pounded loudly at the sight of him actually seeming to be scared. Her fingers wrapped around his cool vibranium hand, before letting go and switching to his right one.

"Sorry," Ophelia whispered as Bucky's eyes darted over the treelines. "Didn't wanna hold back the ghost punching arm."

"James" The whisper came again, a voice floating softly throughout the abandoned park. She felt the muscles in his arm tense, his grip on her hand becoming just a little tighter.

"James why have you forsaken me?" The voice asked and as it did, a chill ran down her spine, a faint light amongst the tree catching her eyes approaching them in a haunting glide.

Both of their brains must have malfunctioned because neither of them could move as the ghostly glowing white figure weaved through the trees toward them.

"Nope." Bucky declared, dragging her alongside him back to the car.

"OooOOOoooOOOoooo Jaaaaames!!!" Came a bloodcurdling hiss just as the wind began to pick up again sending a wave a leaves flying about blinding Ophelia momentarily.

"Oh my God, it won't let us leave!" She concluded frantically, clinging to Bucky's arm and burying her face in his shoulder.

"Never! You can never leave! For I am the ghost of Jame's love-life and I demand action!" The being laughed wickedly.

Her arm jolted as he stopped in his tracks. A familiar laugh boomed around them as Bucky's eyes frantically searched the trees around them. "Where are you?"

"Bucky?" Ophelia tightened her hold on him.

"Hey asshole!" He yelled as soon as whatever he was looking for caught his attention. The laughter started again as he pointed to the sky. Ophelia followed the direction his hand was pointing until she saw a tiny red flashing light within the trees. "Sam! You bring that thing closer to me I'm breaking it."

"You wouldn't!" The voice hollered back through a crack of static.

"Try me birdbrain!"

The realization hit Ophelia and she couldn't help the sputter of laughter that fell out of her. "Oh my god. He really is a dick."

The tiny metal bird that Sam referred to as Redwing made itself properly visible, draped in what looked like a white sheet and hovered just out of Bucky's reach in the air.

"You better sleep with one eye open," Bucky waved a metal finger in the air and Redwing dove toward him, pulling up at the last second and flying over their heads back toward the house.

Ophelia tried to stifle her laughter as Bucky turned his blue eyes on her, his brows scrunched together and his lips pursed. She clapped a hand over her mouth when he saw just how mad he was.

"I don't know if I'd classify Redwing as one of the big three," she mumbled into her hand, the words tangled with a soft laugh.

"Ha ha ha, keep on laughing," Bucky sneered, sticking his tongue for a second before pointing a metal finger in her direction. "You were just as scared as I was!"

"You were going to punch a ghost, Barnes!"

"YOU WANTED ME TO," Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose while Ophelia's laughter finally erupted and tears started streaming down her face.

"Fine," he slapped his hands on his thighs. "You wanna act all brave, how about a little bit of hide and seek? I'll go hide and you'll venture in those creepy old woods all on your own."

Ophelia's jaw dropped at his insinuation that she would either not be brave enough to go into the woods, or that she would be stupid enough to go into the woods alone. But before she could even agree, Bucky's large frame was loping towards an especially dark patch of trees and underbrush.

"What do I get for this, huh?!" she yelled at him, already overtaken by the night.

"Whatever you want, tough guy!" His amused voice echoed through the trees and her heart hammered even louder.

Ophelia couldn’t speak for a moment, caught with indecision. In her hesitation, Bucky spoke again.

“So, what’ll it be, Phee?” She could hear him snicker at the rhyme and her heart felt like it burst as she made up her mind, stepping into the dark, ominous opening.

She didn’t get ten steps, screaming at a breaking branch before Bucky was right there, wrapping her in his arms and pushing her back into a tree.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he huffed, pinning her against the bark. “You’d willingly follow me into possible goddamn haunted woods, all for what?”

It felt like the breath had been knocked out of her feeling his arms cage her in against the tree. His scent surrounded her as those piercing blue eyes glinted in the soft moonlight. The amusement on his face made her smile, but damn he was too close again it was making it hard for her to catch her breath. "Well," Ophelia breathed, "when you offer a girl whatever she wants, it's hard not to turn that down."

Bucky leaned in even further and rolled his tongue over his bottom lip once again, "technically I found you." He teased, "I think that means I won."

Her brows furrowed as she frowned, "That's not how hide and seek works Barnes."

His eyes flickered between hers before he smiled again, "alright darlin, what do you want then?"

He asked the million dollar question as her heart rate picked up. Bucky's eyes flickered to her chest before moving back to her own and she silently cursed her thunderous heart for betraying her. She knew he heard it as soon as it picked up.

"That's a loaded question with you this close to me." She admitted. Ophelia pressed her hand to his stomach, feeling the hard planes beneath his shirt tense and before she knew it, he was taking a step towards her, closing the distance between them.

"Why's that?" He asked, his voice so low that it had turned to a sultry rasp that erupted goosebumps over her skin.

“Don’t…don’t make me say it Buck, please,” she whispered, her cheeks flaming crimson.

She looked away from him but his fingers hooked under her chin and lifted her face up so that she had no choice other than to meet his piercing cerulean gaze.

“You gotta tell me Phee, you just gotta, ‘cause I’m so scared I’m reading this wrong.”

Ophelia’s heart pounded even more at the tremble in his voice and the anxious vulnerability that played across his face. She swallowed down the knot of nerves that rose in her throat and took a breath.

“I’m scared that what I want will ruin everything Bucky,” she admitted, her eyes downcast once more.

“Please Phee,” Bucky almost whined, tracing his thumb across the crease of her chin, just below her lip.

“I want you to kiss me,” she whispered, so quietly it was barely audible.

“Thank God,” Bucky groaned as he lowered his face and pressed his lips urgently against hers.

Ophelia felt her insides melt as her lips parted and Bucky deepened the kiss. His hands snaked into her hair and pulled her closer.

"You can't believe how long I've waited to do that," he whispered, leaning back to look into her eyes.

"I've been waiting longer," she murmured, pulling his lips back to hers. Her fingers worked their way under his Henley, running along the taut muscles of his back and down to his gorgeous ass, giving it a squeeze.

The answering groan coming from his mouth against her lips sent tingles down her spine. Heat was licking low in her belly at how close every inch of him was. His cologne and something purely Bucky surrounding them as they breathed each other in, lips sweeping back and forth over each other with the promise of another kiss.

"Please, kiss me again." She begged breathily against his soft lips. Her hands slipping around his waist and gripping his back, anchoring herself to him or trying to pull him closer, she didn't know. She just needed him.

Between one breath and the next, Bucky's lips closed over her top lip, sucking gently before taking the bottom one and treating it the same way, coaxing her to open up to him as he licked his way into her mouth. Their tongues tangled sweetly and Ophelia moaned into his mouth.

She felt his vibranium hand glide from her neck, down her shoulder and onto her hip where his grip tightened a little as he pulled her even closer, molding them together against the tree while his other hand wound in her hair.

"Bucky," Ophelia whined and the curve of his smile against her lips helped what remained of her fear melt away into the night.

His knee raised slightly, spreading her thighs apart just enough that she could feel the flex of his hard muscles against where she needed him most.

"Ophelia," he drawled, his mouth moving from her swollen lips down a path to her pounding pulse and back again.

Every pass had her moving her hips against his leg, the edges of his teeth making her brain foggy with him.

"I need-", she moaned, as Bucky sucked gently at the exposed skin by her collarbone. "I want you."

Ophelia's breath hitched as his fingers brushed a bare sliver of skin, her shirt raised from their frantic movements against the rough bark. His lips brushed her ear gently, his warm breath making her thighs tighten.

"Phee, as much as I would love to fuck you until the sun came up," Bucky murmured into her ear, dragging his fingers teasingly along Ophelia's stomach. "The first time isn't gonna be against this creepy fuckin' tree."

Ophelia whimpered, "Please! Bucky I -"

His soft chuckle stopped her begging in its tracks, he was smirking when he pulled back slightly. "I do like the sound of your begging," he whispered. His hand dragged down her exposed skin slowly, and in spite of the cool weather making the vibranium chilly, it felt like fire spreading across her belly.

Bucky stopped, fingers just inside the band of her leggings, his soft touch was a striking opposite of the burning desire she could see in his eyes. "I like it enough I don't think I can resist giving you a treat. You're my good girl, right Phee? You'll tell me if you don't want this?"

“I want this, god I want this Bucky,” Ophelia groaned, placing one of her hands on top of his, pushing his fingers below her waistband.

Bucky swore quietly as his vibranium hand slid against her folds. Ophelia gasped at the coolness, pressing down harder against his knee.

“That’s it sweetheart, take what you want,” Bucky encouraged, slowly letting a second finger glide alongside the first.

"I want you," Ophelia breathed against his chest as she dipped her head forward. She felt his other arm wrap around her waist to hold her up as her hips began to rock against him. His warm body pressed against hers made her head spin as his fingers explored her. Bucky dipped his head to the crook of her neck, nipping at the spot just below her ear that always sent a fire to her core.

"Please," She begged softly once again, only to earn herself another chuckle.

Bucky moved his freehand to the back of her neck, tangling his fingers into the hair there as his cool hand circled her clit, once, twice before tugging her head back gently. "You have me," he breathed, ghosting his lips along hers until he pulled back once more, His eyes were dark, the ocean blue in them only sliver now as he rasped "But I want you in my bed, where I can worship you."

Ophelia let out a desperate whine at his words, her knees beginning to tremble with the intensity of the heat building between them. Her hands grasped at his belt and then slid round to grip his ass, pulling him even closer as she ground her hips harder against him.

“Buck-“ she began but faltered with a groan as he slipped a finger inside her.

“Dreamed of hearing you make those sweet sounds Phee,” he rumbled into her neck.

He laved his tongue along her skin as his finger moved to the rhythm of her hips, the heel of his hand putting delicious pressure on her aching clit.

Phee moaned as Bucky added another digit, "Oh. My. God!"

"Just Bucky will do," he chuckled. "You really like that, huh?"

Ophelia felt her core tightening, it had been so long since someone, anyone, had touched her there. She'd dreamt of this, of him, for so long, she knew she was close.

"Yes!" Ophelia gasped, "I d-do!" She was struggling to keep a coherent thought in her head now. His fingers were thrusting into her rapidly now, his breathing in her ear almost as heavy as her own.

"That’s it, sweet girl," he rasped, the heel of his hand grinding against her clit as he curled his fingers exactly the right way. When his teeth bit down on her earlobe, there was nothing that could stop the wail that escaped her, her body shuddering between him and the tree.

"Bucky!"

He held her close as the orgasm faded, and then slowly pulled his fingers from her. Ophelia watched as he licked his lips, then looked at her. His fingers were glistening, wet and sticky with her arousal. Without taking his eyes off her, he popped them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Fuck," he groaned, eyes sliding closed, "Better than I imagined." When he looked at her again, there was a determined look in his eyes. "Screw it. There's no way we're staying here all night. Not knowing how good you taste. Let's get out of here."

Ophelia giggled at his frantic tone as he pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth, "is that okay?" His voice was such a soft whisper against her lips she couldn't help but smile.

"If you're asking me if I'd rather stay out here in these creepy woods versus you taking me home where it's warm...I'm going with the latter." She grinned.

"Good," he pressed his lips to hers once more before tugging her along behind him. Ophelia's knees still felt weak and the thin sheen of sweat that covered her body made the cold night air nip at her skin even more than before. It was the last thing she could have cared about though. The idea of finally having Bucky to herself and knowing that he at least seemed like he felt the same way was enough to convince her to do anything he wanted.

A soft whirring noise sounded from above them as they made their way through the trees and back out into the playground. "You guys aren't leaving yet!" Sam's voice filtered through the air, "it's not even midnight!"

"Change of plans Sam!" She yelled to the air, a wide smile on her face.

They practically ran to the car with their fingers entwined until they finally had to part so they could actually sit. Bucky opened Ophelia’s door for her, making sure she was settled before climbing into the driver’s seat. He’d not even managed to get his seatbelt across his chest before Ophelia grabbed his cheeks and pulled him close for another kiss leaving them both breathless and giggling.

“Easy there Phee, or we’re not gonna make it out of the parking lot,” he laughed, kissing her palms as she reluctantly released him.

“Sorry, you’re right,” she grinned, and it was Bucky that leaned across the console this time, covering her apology with his lips.

"What about the costumes?" Phee asked him, giggling.

Bucky lowered the window, "Sam, I know you're listening! You need to come collect your seafood platter!" He yelled at Redwing. Starting the engine, he slipped the car into drive, before putting his arm around her headrest and powering along the road towards home.

"Your place or mine?" He asked.

"Yours," she breathed. Phee loved his place, his large fireplace and huge couch. She had often imagined a rough and tumble in his arms whilst innocently watching movies curled up by his side.

He shot her a brilliant smile. "As you wish."

Ophelia raised an eyebrow, wondering if he had actually just quoted The Princess Bride at her. There was no chance to ask though, since his apartment was so close by they were already pulling into his parking spot.

"Don't move." He said pointing a finger at her making her laugh as he climbed out of the car and jogged to her side and opened the door. She grinned up at him.

"Such a gentleman." Bucky held out his hand for her and without hesitation she took it. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach and it felt like her heart was trying to escape her chest as he wrapped his arms around her after pulling her out of the car. He dipped his head and kissed her so softly and sweetly that her body melted into his.

When he finally pulled away Ophelia’s heart almost exploded at the sheer joy she saw in his eyes. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him this happy. Even the smallest amount of worry had vanished from his face.

“Come on then Sweetheart,” he said, taking hold of her hand once more.

A giggle spilled from her lips as he led them up the stairs to the front door. He fumbled his keys, distracted as he was by her closeness.

“Come on Buck,” she laughed, playfully smacking his ass.

As Bucky swung open the door, he dipped his knees, grabbed her round the waist and tossed her over his shoulder.

He moved so fast that before Fee could squeal she was already upside down and being carried inside.

"Slap my ass, would you?" He chuckled, "I'm already aching for you," he tipped her backwards onto the couch cushions and, without hesitation, moved to join her.

Ophelia greedily reached for Bucky as he laid down on top of her, pressing her back into the plush cushions. She could feel him, hard against her thigh and she moved, wrapping her leg around his hip, pulling him into her.

Bucky groaned low and deep in his throat, pressing his face into Ophelia’s neck, his hands tangled in her hair and wrapping around the back of her shoulders.

“Fuck, can already feel how warm you are,” Bucky muttered and Ophelia moaned, rocking her hips into his covered dick, feeling the drag of denim against her leggings, desperate for more, already feeling too much.

“Bucky, I wanna- can I touch you?” Ophelia asked, one hand trailing between their closely pressed bodies to the button of Bucky’s jeans.

He dragged his tongue slowly, greedily along her jawline until their lips met and he nipped playfully at her bottom lip. Their eyes met as he leaned back taking her in with his icy blues darkened with lust.

“I’m all yours angel,” he drawled. “Do with me whatever you please.”

Ophelia smiled, moving her hands up his back fingernails scratching the fabric of his shirt slightly. She lifted her lips to his as she hooked her leg between his and gripped his shoulders shifting her weight beneath him pushing against his body and rolling him onto the bed.

Bucky huffed as his back hit the mattress and she settled atop him, straddling him. She let her hands roam along his taut chest, under his shirt, “All mine huh?” She asked.

Bucky’s eyes were wide but full of eagerness. He slid his hands up her thighs, kneading at the flesh where they met her hips.

She pressed down onto him as she flicked open the button of his jeans, the zipper pulling down on its own, his dick hard enough to press forwards.

Ophelia bit her lip as she slowly reached down and traced a single finger up and around the head of his covered dick, making Bucky hiss.

“Doll, come on Phee, please. Don’t torture a guy here, huh?” he whined, and Ophelia grinned. She slid her hand inside his underwear and gently gripped his dick, tightening her hand gradually as she moved it up and down.

He squirmed beneath her, his hard body going taut as she twisted her wrist in a corkscrew motion while working his length. Ophelia watched him through heavy lids, unsure of how far he was willing to take this or where they'd land after tonight but a part of her didn't care. She had waited months for this moment and she selfishly would take every piece of him he was willing to give.

"God, Phee," he moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow while his hands found purchase in her hair. She slowed her strokes, using her free hand to tug his jeans further down his thighs.

"These need to come off," She said as she released him, earning herself a groan of protest as she worked his pants down his legs. He watched her, the blue in his eyes completely gone while his chest heaved in response to her crawling up his body once again and settling herself between his legs. He licked his lips watching her as she pressed her lips to his thighs, pushing the hem of his Henley up and over his chest and trailed her lips along the planes of his abs and adonis.

"You're killing me," he growled as her fingers wrapped around his length once more and stroked him.

"And I want to know how you taste," she moaned, wiggling her hips. Bucky raised a brow at her as she stuck out her tongue and licked the length of his shaft, sending a shudder through his body before she slowly took him in her mouth.

She looked up at him through her lashes as she circled his head with her tongue slowly before she hollowed her cheeks, relishing in the way his breaths shallowed at her movements, his lips parting slightly.

“God you’re perfect, Ophelia.” He mused, pushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Ophelia hummed around him, before releasing him with a pop.

“All yours handsome,” she winked, licking a bead of precum glistening on his tip before taking him in her mouth once more.

Ophelia felt the heavy weight of him on her tongue, and slowly took more of him in until she was pressing her nose into the hairs at the base of his dick.

“Oh jesus fuck, Ophelia! Gonna come if you do that too much,” Bucky gritted out through his teeth, one hand deep in her hair, the vibranium one stroking her cheek.

“That’s the plan,” she rasped as she came off him again before pressing back down, licking at his balls and jacking his dick with one hand.

Bucky swore and Ophelia grinned, a satisfied moan leaving her as he came in her fist. She kissed the base of his dick, Bucky twitching as another spurt of cum landed on his abs.

She released him gently, letting him catch his breath as she climbed off the bed.

"Where are you going?" He asked as she moved into his bathroom, coming back a moment later with a warm wet cloth. Ophelia settled between his legs again, only to find that he'd taken off his Henley while she was away. His body was perfect. Hard muscle that formed every curve and dip in his chest, the pink scars around his shoulder, everything was perfect about him. She began wiping his stomach off, his abs twitching at her touch as she cleaned him up.

"That's supposed to be my job," he breathed as she tossed the cloth to the floor.

"You take care of me all the time Bucky, let me take care of you for once." She said moving up his chest and pressing a kiss to his lips. His arms wrapped around her waist as she settled her weight onto his. He wrapped his fingers into her hair again, groaning against her lips as he rolled them onto their sides. Bucky pulled back, trailing one of his hands along her hairline, pushing back the mussed tendrils behind her ear.

"What does this mean?" He asked softly after a moment of silence.

Ophelia took in a deep breath, soothing herself as she trailed her fingers slowly along the hair that adorned his navel. A million thoughts swirling around her brain only hoping that he’d be thinking the same as her. Silently pleading the universe that this wouldn’t be just for tonight. That things wouldn’t change between them for the worse.

“You still with me there angel?”

“Always Buck… as long as you’ll let me of course.” She breathed, looking up at him warily.

“You make me feel safe, Bucky in more ways than one.” she began, “And that isn’t a now feeling. Ever since you walked into this town, you’ve made me feel that way.” She finished, pressing her hand to his heart feeling it beat steadily against her palm.

His lips turned in a soft smile as her eyes met his, "I've made you feel safe?" He asked the question as if he was shocked he could be that for someone.

She nodded without hesitation. "Since day one."

"You've been that for me too." He admitted, "I think the days I spend without you around are the hardest."

Ophelia blew out a breath as he ran his hand down her arm and continued, "I haven't been able to get you out of my head for a long time Ophelia, you're the calm in my life and it's addicting." His thumb traced her bottom lip, "Just like these lips." Ophelia smiled against his touch, "and that smile."

"You know how to make a girl blush," she said softly, nipping at the tip of his thumb causing him to chuckle.

"No, sweetheart," he cooed, "I know how to make my girl blush."

Her stomach fluttered, searching his eyes. "Your girl?"

"If you'll have me." He grinned.

Ophelia smiled back, leaning into him to press a soft kiss to his lips before she pulled back, "I think I've been your girl for longer than tonight Bucky."

He nudged his nose against her own and grazed his lips against hers, "I've been yours since the day I met you."

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thesugarclubs-blog · 7 months

Text

Always Been You - Sam Wilson x OC

warnings: injured Sam, hurtxcomfort, neighbors to lovers, sweet fluff

word count: 6.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1385057799-always-been-you-tamara

Masterlist

She hated nights like these. It had nothing to do with the fall chill that had settled comfortably over the night or the fact that her bottle of wine had been empty for the last three hours. Tamara glanced out of the front bay window of her home. Her gaze flickered to the darkened porch across the road just as she had done every night for the past two days.

Sam had always at least texted her to tell her when he was coming home. Every time his name lit up her screen it felt like she had swallowed a hoard of butterflies and though he never had to ask for her to wait up for him, she always did. Tamara checked her phone, again, just in case she had missed a text but still nothing.

As the night went on, his empty driveway did nothing to stifle the anxiety growing like a weighted ball in her stomach. Tamara pushed herself up off her couch, switching off the television she hadn’t been watching and moved to her kitchen. She started cleaning up her mess from dinner, washing dishes and doing everything she could to keep herself busy.

It wasn’t until after she wiped down her island for the third time that she tossed the rag onto the counter, taking a glimpse at the spotless kitchen. A flicker of light flashed over her living room, catching her attention. Her breath caught in her chest, knowing what that flicker meant. She made her way back to the window only to see his truck parked in the driveway. A sense of relief washed over her as she waited for him to climb out. His headlights turned off but when he stayed inside the truck her brows furrowed in worry. Something was wrong.

She waited a bit to see if he would open his door, maybe he just needed a minute. But as the seconds ticked by and there was no sign of movement Tamara quickly walked back into her living room, grabbing a cardigan from her coat rack and her keys and headed out the door. Running across the street she went up Sam’s driveway and his truck. When she got to the drivers side she knocked on the window.

“Sam?…” she froze, her knuckles against the glass. Sam was leaning against the headrest of his seat; the side of the face she could see was slightly swollen and red. What happened to him?

His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, opening his dark eyes to meet hers, furrowing his brow and then wincing just slightly. There was a small cut on the side of his lip and Tamara could feel the budding concern in her chest grow the more she looked at him.

Tugging on the handle of the driver door, Sam plastered on a weak smile, "What are you doing up right now?" He groaned as he twisted his body to step out of the car.

"I - couldn't sleep," Tamara shook her head, extending her hands out to him, "let's get you inside."

"I'm fine," Sam huffed, a playful smirk trying to find its way onto his lips, "although I'd never turn down the offer to hold a pretty girls hands"

"Sam," she breathed out a chuckle as she helped him stand from the car. His dark blue long sleeve straining against his check with a small speck of red seeping through. Tamara had never wished for someone else to be hurt before but in that moment, she kind of hoped it was someone else's blood on his shirt and not his own. "When you didn't get out of the truck on your own, I got worried, '' she finally admitted quietly.

"You were worried about me?"

There was that cheeky Sam Wilson, breaking through the pain he was in just to get a rise out of her.

"More like I was worried about Sarah having a heart attack if she saw you passed out in your car," she teased back.

His laugh was interrupted by a groan as he clutched the side of his torso a little harder, his breathing a little labored and Tamara's heart broke at the sight of him in pain. She had to put on a strong face though so he wouldn't notice and try to hide from her.

"Come on let's get you inside, Sammy."

She urged him softly, slowly putting one foot in front of the other so he could keep up while leaning on her.

“I do wish you’d take better care of yourself,” she added, adjusting her position and sliding her arm around his waist.

“It’s not as if I choose to get hurt, Tamara. It’s my job.”

Tamara’s cheeks flushed hot at the almost angry tone in his voice but then he sighed.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Tamara took the blunt of his weight as she moved them slowly toward the door. She subtly looked him over as they hobbled in step with each other. The stain of blood across his chest that matched the trail down his pant leg.

His soft eyes caught hers, "I don't wanna bleed all over your clean house Tam-"

"Be quiet, you can mop it up later if it bothers you that much."

"Hold me to it," he groaned as she pulled open the door and shuffled them inside.

After she switched the lights on Tamara led him into her living room and towards her sofa. She gently sat him down and then quickly closed the blinds on the windows looking into the street before she hurried off to find her first aid kit and grabbed some towels from the kitchen. After running the towels under some warm water and filling a bucket with more water she headed back to Sam. Kneeling down in front of him and slowly began to wipe away the blood on his face.

“Sorry if this hurts Sam but I need to clean all the blood off to see what I’m dealing with here” she said.

Sam winced under her touch, jerking his face back away from her and grabbed her wrist in his hand. He let out a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head once as his grip loosened.

Tamara pulled her lip between her teeth and ghosted her fingertips over his jaw lightly, trying her best to calm him before bringing the towel back to the cut on his face.

“I told you I’m fine, T,” he rasped, dropping his hand slowly from hers.

“Okay Captain America, I believe you,” she teased, wiping the wet cloth gently across his forehead, “but my friend Sam, him I don’t believe.”

He lets out a stuttered sigh, his impatience mixing with the pain he's so clearly in but stubbornness was and still is Sam Wilson's biggest personality trait.

"Just let me help you, Sam," Tamara pleads with him. Her eyes searching his struggling chocolate brown ones and resisting the butterflies going crazy in her belly at his soft gaze focused– barely, on her.

It was a few beats before all the fight left him, his body sagging into the couch with a resigned sigh and his face leaning into her hand more as resumed wiping his cuts carefully.

Tamara couldn’t help the winces that pulled across her face each time Sam hissed in pain. She tried to be as gentle as she could but some of the blood had already dried onto his bruised skin.

“Oh Sam,” she breathed sadly, as she finished wiping his face.

She leaned back a little and surveyed the rest of his body, tears welling in her eyes when her gaze met the wet stains on his shirt.

“Let me take a look at your side?”

A terrible, strangled hiss left his lips as he shifted and allowed her to pull at the hem of his sweater. She moved as slow as she could, trying to be gentle with him as her fingers kneaded across his tense abdomen.

"Shit," she scowled. The fabric of his sweater had fused to the gnarly rigid ripped flesh along his side. "This is going to suck."

He nodded, letting his head fall back against the couch. "I'm sorry T," his breath hitched as she untangled the fibers from his skin. "One of these times I'll be on this couch for a good reason," he trailed off with a strangled groan. "I mean, that" he fumbled his words. "That came out wrong."

"Let's start slow," she laughed, heat tickling up her neck. "Maybe work towards sitting on the couch when you aren't bleeding out."

He huffed a laugh as best he could before another wince passed across his features. "That's probably a good place to start."

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes and she knew it. Tamara tugged gently on his sweater as soon as she got it away from the gash and pushed it further up his torso. Her eyes roamed over his body, checking for anything else that could be bleeding but only finding splotches of purple that darkened his skin. "Jesus Sammy," Tamara breathed.

"It's not as bad as it looks." He countered almost immediately and too fast for her to truly believe him.

Tamara shot him a glare he couldn't see with his eyes still closed, but carefully poked her finger against one of the darker bruises on his chest. Sam yelped, his eyes flew open as he glared right back at her. "What the hell was that for?"

"Quit being Cap for a minute," She said firmly but she could hear the plead in her voice, "you don't have to act with me, you can be hurt and in pain I won't hold that against you." Tamara paused as she wrung out the towel to start cleaning his side, "Just.." She let out a dejected sigh, "don't hide from me? Especially when you're hurt like this."

Sam let out a breath that he didn't even know he'd been holding. As Tamara touched the towel to his side he flinched, letting out a groan.

Tamara looked up into his face, "Just breathe" she murmured, stroking the fabric gently against his skin. She hadn't realized how close she had leaned towards him, their faces just inches apart as he gazed down at her.

His deep brown eyes locked on to hers, she could see the moment the last bit of his Captain America shield came down. What was left was exhaustion and pain. Her heart broke seeing him like this. Shaking her head she tried to focus again on cleaning the cut on his side.

“Why… why didn’t you go see one of your doctor friends before coming back home Sam. I’m sure you know plenty of people who are qualified to take on this kind of thing. Why did you come back home instead” she said, shaking her head, surely there must be doctors who are able to help and provided by the Avengers and government.

"I.. I was tired. I just wanted to come home," he whispered after a few moments of silence.

Her heart ached for Sam. He was a good guy. The best really, and he gave his time and energy to saving the world they live in every day. Not once did he hesitate to put his life on the line so others could live better.

She didn't want him out there, and when he first gave up the shield she barely kept in her sigh of relief when she heard the news from his sister. Just because selfishly she wanted him here. Safe. Home after so long without him.

So when he claimed it back, she knew deep down that it belonged to him all along, there was no one better to carry that legacy on their shoulders than Sam Wilson.

And so she resigned herself to sitting here every night he's out there, just to watch him come back safe and in one piece, but she had yet to see Sam this broken and tired.

"I'll take care of you," Tamara promised. Wanting to explain that she meant those words beyond this night. Beyond taking care of his injuries but she held back.

“You always have, T,” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed as she continued to clean his side.

Once clean, the gash wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought. It wouldn’t need stitching.

“I’m just going to go get the first aid kit. Don’t move,” she told him, tapping him gently on the thigh.

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” Sam chuckled, opening one eye to glance at her.

Tamara left him for only a moment to retrieve her first aid kit from the bathroom. She fumbled around inside it and managed to find some steri-strips that she carefully began applying to the cut on his side.

"How's that?" She asked him as the rubbed her thumb over the last one.

"You got that magic touch T, I think I could go another ten rounds."

"That's not funny," she scowled, the thought of him going back out there and fighting gave her a sick feeling that licked at her spine and make her jaw clench together. "You need sleep, like three days worth and maybe a career change."

"I can't just stop being Captain America," he guffed. "Look what happened to the world without him the first time."

"Look what happened to you," she chewed on her lip. "I'm not sure the world realizes that you're just a man, Sam. You aren't indestructible, you-"

"I don't need the world aware of who I am when I'm not protecting them," he shifted under her touch as she helped him pull the sweater back on. "You know exactly who I am."

Tamara shook her head, "I know that if you don't slow down, you won't--" she stopped herself, her eyes flicking to his as the weight of the words she couldn't bring herself to say sat heavily in her throat. Instead, she cleaned up the mess from the bandages and moved to stand, but his hand caught her wrist. Sam's thumb brushed the inside of her palm, stopping her.

"I won't what?" he asked softly.

She closed her eyes as he tugged her gently down to the couch.

"Talk to me, T" Sam urged.

"If you don't slow down, you won't come home." Tamara forced the words out, her voice cracking with the last word and unable to meet his eyes, "and I don't know if I could handle that."

Sam reached forward and hooked his finger under her chin, raising her face. Tamara kept her eyes down, refusing to look at him.

"Tamara", he sighed, "I don't have a choice".

"I know deep down that that's the truth but it's hard to accept and it would break me if anything ever happened to you," the emotion making her voice tremble.

“You’ve been a part of my life for so long Sam,” she continued, pulling her chin out of his grip. “You can’t tell me that you’re OK with all of it.”

“T, you gotta stop worrying about me. I’m fi-“

“If you finish that sentence the way I think you’re gonna then you can get the hell off my couch Samuel Wilson! You’ve never lied to me before so don’t start now.”

Sam stared at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise at her outburst before his gaze softened and he sighed in defeat.

His hand slipped into hers, warm and calloused she felt him squeeze it gently. The confession sat heavy on her chest, but it bloomed a warmth within her that settled her nerves. She had danced around her feelings for him for the longest time. Shamelessly flirting back and forth, late night phone calls when he was away and spending most of their time together when he was home but as the warmth of his hand spread through her, a part of her wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in him.

"I feel safe with you too." She said softly, finally forcing her eyes to meet his.

"As your resident Cap, I would hope you do." He smirked.

"Okay smart arse," she sighed, trying to lighten the mood following her confession. "Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?" starting to get to her feet.

Sam pulled her down again so that she landed closer to him. "We're trying to have a moment here"

“Careful!” Tamara admonished, resisting the urge to slap out at his arm. “You’re injured, remember.”

“I feel better just being around you,” he teased with the flirty grin she’d watched him turn on so many other girls before.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“What look? There’s no look. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled low in his throat but Tamara still saw the flash of pain he tried to hide when he turned his face away.

“Where else?” She asked.

“I’m fi-“

“Where. Else?” She quietly demanded.

Sam sighed in resignation.

“Left thigh.”

"Sam," she groaned sliding off of the couch so quickly that he couldn't stop her even if he had tried. Her eyes scanned his jeans, until she spotted the dark spot that looked like dried blood. Tamara glared up at him, "pants. Off."

Sam let out a chuckle, leaning back into the couch. "If I knew it was that easy I would have come over here bleeding more often."

"That's not funny!" She shrieked smacking his calf, "I'm serious Sam, your jeans are already too tight and that blood is dried."

"T," He said softly leaning forward, "I'm okay."

"No you aren't and you keep hiding it." She stood, grabbing the first aid kit once more and shifted back, "just, please let me help."

"Get a wriggle on," Tamara instructed, indicating to his jeans, "see if they'll come off".

Sam made a move to half stand and unfasten his button but as soon as his legs took his weight he groaned, quickly sitting again.

"Oh yes, totally fine Sam," she quipped sarcastically. "Let me help you." Tamara stood quickly and moved to take Sam's hand. She pulled him up gently and held him so he could unfasten his trousers. He winced as he tried to tug them down his legs but stopped when he realised it was a bad idea. "Too late, I think this is really going to hurt."

"Looks like we need to get drastic," Tamara winked. "Let's get you upstairs and get you wet."

“Should be my line,” he huffed out a laugh.

“God, would you just stop?” She groaned in mock annoyance but a flight of butterflies chose that moment to make their presence known in her belly.

With some manoeuvring, Tamara managed to get her arm around Sam in such a way that she could help him climb the stairs without too much difficulty. They made it to the bathroom and Tamara leaned Sam against the counter whilst she turned on the shower and set the water to a comfortable temperature.

“OK Cap, in you get. Need you to get those jeans soaked,” she said, tipping her head towards to shower.

He listened without argument for once, climbing into the running water with a few mumbles of pain before he slumped against the wall and angled himself so she could help him pull the jeans down.

"This was a ploy wasn't it!" He laughed as she rolled them down over his thighs.

"There are easier ways to get men naked in the shower," She rolled her eyes.

"Oh yeah?" He waggled his brows again but as she glanced up at him in the light, she could see the exhaustion written all over his face.

"Preferably not covered in blood and bruises for one," She remarked, helping to lift his foot and slid the soaked denim over his feet.

Sam huffed out another laugh as they switched to his bad leg, his face scrunched in pain for a brief moment until she was able to toss the jeans aside. "I thought that's what you preferred? Big strong men covered in blood, claiming their women-"

"Like cavemen?" She grinned.

"No like those romance novels you try to hide from me." His shit-eating grin spread over his lips as she gawked up at him.

"I don't hide anything from you," she protested, turning a light shade of blush.

"Just like you've never hidden your feelings about me," Sam retorted, "We could have been starring in our very own series of Bridgerton all this time," referring to the show that Tamara had been besotted with, binge watching it the previous weekend, with a smirk.

“Yeah, alright Lord Wilson, whatever you say,” she retorted with a scoff, trying to deflect the comment that was far too close to the truth.

“Lord Wilson, I kinda like it.”

“Look, titles aren’t Pokémon you know, you don’t have to collect ‘em all. Besides, if you’re Lord Wilson then we’re gonna need a chaperone.”

Sam tilted his head as he looked at her, an eyebrow raised with amusement.

“Yeah, I mean, an unattached maid such as myself shouldn’t be alone in a bathroom with a *Captain*! I should get your sister to come and sit with us…”

Tamara started to turn away, as if she really was going to fetch the indomitable Sarah Wilson to chaperone. A hand on her wrist stopped her in her tracks and the smile on her face faded as Sam pulled her closer towards him.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t leave.”

"Okay, hey," she smiled, "I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a shaky tense nod but it was confirmation that his mind was still strong even after the fight had broken his body.

"Feels like lately that's all people do," he hummed.

"Not me," she smiled at him, cupping his face with her head. "Not us."

His eyes met hers, flicking between them as if a million thoughts were racing through his mind. "Tamara," he sighed her name, leaning into her touch.

"It's okay," she nodded, "you don't have to be strong for me." Her voice was so soft, she barely heard herself over the sound of the water.

Sam lifted his hand, running his fingers along her hairline and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The swarm of butterflies returned to her chest as his free hand skimmed her waist, bunching up her t-shirt until the warmth of his faint touch brushed her skin. They'd had close moments before, but not like this. Those moments weren't filled with their unsaid feelings swirling around them like fall leaves on a windy day.

Sam tugged Tamara towards him, into the cascading water.

"Sam!" she shrieked as he held her close, drenching her to the bone. "There was no need to get me wet!"

"Fair's fair T," Sam chuckled, "Let me help you out of those wet clothes." He started to unbutton her shirt.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” She squealed, batting his hands away before shoving her now-soaking hair out of her eyes.

“This has never been us! Did you hit your head or something?”

“Or something,” he murmured, the smile never leaving his face as he reached for her once more.

Instead of pulling her towards him his hands rested gently at her waist, thumbs tracing circles at the edge of her wet shirt.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked refraining from melting into his body despite the heat from the water.

"Like what?" He asked feigning innocence.

"Like you want to kiss me." Tamara said softly, ignoring the blush slowly creeping up her neck.

His fingers dug into her waist, firmly but still gentle as he dipped his head brushing his lips over her cheek, "maybe because I do." He rasped.

Tamara's hands found his chest again and her breath caught into her throat, "Sam," she breathed.

"Is that okay?" he asked, trailing his nose along her skin, nuzzling against her.

Tamara felt her knees go weak. She'd imagined how this might go in her wildest dreams but now Sam was actually making a move....

She clung to Sam's shoulder as his lips found her neck, melting into his embrace.

Sam moved his fingers back to her shirt buttons. "What about this?" he murmured as he started to undo the fastenings.

Tamara shuddered as his knuckle grazed her breast.

"Sam -" she breathed, tracing her hand to the side of his face, moving his gaze to meet hers, "you're hurt," she whispered

Sam hummed, placing his hands on the side of her face as his eyes traced her features, "When I'm with you, nothing can hurt me," he whispered back.

Tamara ran her tongue across her bottom lip as every feeling for Sam Wilson bubbled to the surface. Part of her brain was screaming at her to stop this in it's tracks, he was injured and in no condition to be saying these things to her. Maybe he was concussed and confused. Maybe he thought she was someone else. But her heart was telling her Sam was genuine. They'd always flirted and looked out for each other. Most times Sarah made comments about how they were basically married anyway because of how they looked at one another. There was no better time than the present to jump in feet first and hold him until the world made sense again.

Placing her hand on the back of his neck, she brought his forehead down to meet hers, brushing the tips of their noses together, "Kiss me," she almost moaned quietly.

Without another word, Sam obliged pressing his lips to hers softly at first, relishing in the moment and allowing for the world to fully slow down around them. Every nerve in her body vibrated with the butterflies causing her to step foreward and press her body into his. She needed all of him in that moment. Knowing he was safe and sound, in her arms and her heart, was all she wanted.

He moaned softly into her mouth and, at the first sound, Tamara froze thinking she’d hurt him but he didn’t stop. His lips caressed hers in the way she’d always dreamed about and she leaned into him, giving herself over to sensation.

Her breath hitched as his lips ghosted across her jaw.

“C’mere,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her closer.

Water from the shower cascaded around them as he held her close, his lips fire against her skin. One hand moved back to her chest, skimming over her until deft fingers found the buttons of her shirt and began to flick them open.

His fingers moved with care as he opened each of the buttons of her shirt. Once they were all open Sam slowly pushed her shirt off her shoulders and Tamara shrugged it off, her shirt landing on the shower floor. Sam pulled away to look at her. Tamara felt her cheeks warm as his eyes roamed over her.

“You’re so beautiful” Sam said, his eyes landing back on hers.

She tried to hide from his eyes, they were roaming from her face down to her exposed neck and over her bra-covered breasts. Her nipples were begging for attention and her hands fumbled to cover them before Sam's hands took hold of her, locking them in his beside her and allowing his eyes to devour her.

He leaned against her body, his body straining to not fall completely against Tamara's. His breath was quick and ragged, the words leaving his mouth caressing the skin under her ear in the most delicious way. Something she'd only dreamt about and never thought could happen.

"Don't hide from me, Tamara."

She shivered from the words, the kiss following them on her heated skin making her almost lose balance before he continued in a broken voice.

"You've got no idea how long I've been wanting this. Wanting you."

Tamara let out a soft moan and turned her head to meet his lips, pulling one hand out of his to trail up his side. She was careful to avoid the steri-stripped wound but once she reached the hard planes of his chest she allowed her fingers to wander more determinedly before sliding her hand around the back of his neck.

She drew him closer, deepening their kiss and teasing her tongue across his bottom lip. Sam hummed in appreciation and pulled her even closer, leaning against the tiled wall of the shower to take a little of the weight off his injured thigh. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and Tamara ground her hips against him, her body seeking out even more contact.

“T” Sam let out a moan against her lips. “You’re killing me here.”

Tamara pulled out a soft chuckle before leaning over and turning off the shower.

“Why don’t we get you all dry and into something warm so you can rest. The last thing I want is for you to catch a cold on top of everything else.” Tamara said, moving to stand next to Sam and wrapping her arm around his waist to help him out of her shower.

"But–" he exclaimed.

"No buts," she interrupted him sternly.

"You're tired, and your body needs the rest." She left him no room for discussion as she stepped out and left him pouting behind her to get towels for them.

She wrapped one around herself and squeezed her hair with another one before wrapping it into a bun and turned to him with a bathrobe, open and ready for him to slip into.

"Come on," she smiled at him and was glad to see the smile she loved reflected back at her, "I'll still be here when you're feeling better, Sammy."

He pouted so adorably that Tamara let a giggle slip out and it made his brows draw down in a scowl.

“Quit your storming, Captain. You spend most of your time looking after the world, just let me look after you for once.” She raised herself up onto her toes and pressed a sweet kiss onto the corner of his mouth.

He started to smirk, his eyes twinkling, and then a grin began to spread across his face. His shoulders relaxed a little more and, although he limped as he moved closer to her, his steps seemed just that bit lighter than before. Tamara slipped her arm back around his waist to help him.

“Come on hero, follow my lead.”

“Always,” he murmured, and Tamara’s face flushed even more.

They moved together out of her bathroom and into her bedroom. Once they got to her bed Tamara helped Sam sit down on her bed.

“Now you get yourself comfortable, I’m going to go grab my warm blanket from the closet and more pillows” Tamara smiled as Sam leaned against the headboard and moved his legs onto her bed. He already looked a lot more relaxed and less in pain than he did when she found him earlier.

She moved quickly though, not wanting to leave her for more than was necessary. Gathering all she can in her arms, she balanced the pile on her arms with slow steps back to her room.

Tamara heard the unmistakeble squeak of her mattress and she quickly told him off, her voice muffled against the pillows and blanket she's holding.

"Don't you dare move your ass, Cap! I'm strong too you know?"

She dumped the pile on the edge of the bed and was met with a raised brow and a handsome smirk, one of his legs already dangling off the bed and his arms raised in mock surrender. She shook her head at him before grabbing a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers from her bathroom and rushed back to him.

The sight of him, relaxed, on her bed was doing something to her. The feel of his lips still lingering on her own. It felt as though her heart was dancing behind her ribs with how hard it was beating.

He took the pills from her and swallowed them down with a swig of water, grimacing as he did, and then placed the glass on the nightstand. Tamara watched him, the way he moved carefully so as not to hurt himself any more. He settled back against the pillows and patted the space next to him.

“C’mon T. If I’m gonna rest up you gotta get in here with me.”

She hesitated just for a moment before climbing onto the bed beside him but she sat stiffly, uncomfortably, as if she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Sam lifted his arm and she scooted up into his offered space but he could still feel the tension in her muscles.

“What’s the matter T? It’s not like we ain’t sat like this a million times before.”

“No,” she said quietly, “I guess not.”

“There’s just one difference,” he said, and she turned her head to look at him. “I can do this.”

Hooking his finger under her chin, he tilted her head up and leaned down to kiss her. It was just a gentle brush of his lips against hers but it was everything she needed.

Tamara's body melted into his, her hand rested once more on his chest feeling his heart race under her touch. He slid his hand from under her chin around to the back of her neck, tangling his finger into her hair as the kiss deepened. She wanted this. Wanted to get lost in everything Sam Wilson was when he wasn't Cap and even though kissing him felt like floating, she knew the next time he would have to leave would only be ten times harder now.

She broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his as her eyes stayed closed. "Sam, what are we doing?" She asked softly.

"What we always should have done." He said so confidently she pulled back to look at him.

His words echoed in her head. Could it be that Sam felt the same way about her as she did for him? Was there a chance for them to be more than friends that always looked out for each other? Looking into his eyes she knew that he meant the words he had spoken, but she needed to be sure. Because she didn’t want to risk having her heart broken by the man she has been in love with for as long as she could remember.

“Sam… what are you saying?” She asked hoping his answer would match hers. That he wanted to be hers and much as she longed to be his.

He took a deep breath and did his best to turn her way fully, engulfing her face between his two hands, he lifted her face to his. He was all Tamara could see. She could get lost in his eyes if he let her.

His face was serious, his eyes sure as they bore down into her own.

"I'm saying that I love you, Tamara."

Her breath hitched at that, her mind having a hard time catching with her racing heart. He threw her another brilliant smile, nodding as if to affirm what he knows is going through her mind.

"I've loved you for as long as I could remember. So, so many times I've wanted to tell you how I feel but the timing was never right. Between the avenging and the Snap and being gone and back.. being Cap.."

He exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a brief moment before meeting her gaze again. His eyes were red with held back emotions swirling in them and she felt the sting of tears in her own.

"I couldn't risk you being in danger because of me, I thought I was protecting you if I kept my feelings to myself but, all I've done is keep us apart when all I really want.. all I really need, is you. By my side."

Her eyes scanned over his face as the tears that stung her eyes finally welled over.

“God, T, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Sam panicked, swiping his thumbs across her cheeks.

“I’m not crying,” she gulped out a laugh, “I mean, I am but not because I’m sad.”

His hands continued to frame her face as he watched her intently.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that to me.”

"What?" He asked leaning back a bit, but his grip on her never faltered.

She sucked in a breath, letting it out in an almost choked laugh, "I love you too Sam. I always have."

He stared at her for a moment before a beautiful smile spread across his face. "You do?"

"How could I not?" she asked, shaking her head. "You are the other half of me" she admitted softly. "No one has ever made me feel the way I feel when I'm with you."

Sam looked at her, unable to believe that he'd been worried that Tamara had parked him in the friend zone. "Tell me how I make you feel," Gently capturing her lips again with his.

Tamara sighed into the kiss and smiled as she pulled away. How could she possibly put into words how Sam made her feel.

“You make me feel safe Sam, you always long before Cap and Falcon. You’ve made me feel safe since we were kids. You make me feel at home. You understand me better than anyone else in my life. You show you care with the little things, like checking up on me when you are away or that one time you brought me soup when I had that really bad cold. Letting me crash at your place when there was that snow storm and the power was out at my place. Or when you remember the smallest of details about the things I like. You make me feel seen, Sam.” Tamara said, taking hold of his hand in hers and linking her fingers between his.

“You always have,” she added.

“Tamara,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “T, this ain’t gonna be easy. I’ll be called away in the middle of the night, I’ll come back looking like this…” he chuckled drily.

“But you’ll come back,” she said with a sweet determination.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he nodded.

“And I’ll be right here waiting,” she reassured him.

“You know,” he sighed, ghosting a kiss across her lips, “whenever the job gets too much I think about home, about Delacroix, and about you. That one thing that keeps me going? It’s you, T. It’s always been you.”

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thesugarclubs-blog · 8 months

Text

Sunrises - Nikolai Lanstov x OC

warnings: Sturmhond Nikolai, post season 2, sweet, soft fluffy Nik, new Grisha OC

word count: 7.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1382079816-sunrises-zrina

Masterlist

Zrina stared up at the imposing ship and swallowed thickly past the knot of nerves lodged in her throat. Her excitement at being chosen for this commission had soon faded to a nervous dread at the enormity of her task. It was only thoughts of her parents that finally encouraged her to set a foot on the wooden ramp that led up to the deck. She hoped they’d have been proud.

The Volkvolny was a mighty vessel and Zrina shook herself once more at the realisation that not only had she been chosen for Sturmhond’s fleet, but that she was on his flagship, her, a brand new squaller with barely a week of experience driving a wind through a sail. No, she thought to herself, you can do this! A stern voice brought her back out of her thoughts and she hitched her large bag up onto her shoulder as she turned to see who had spoken.

“You’re late,” the Grisha huffed once more, rolling his eyes in disparagement.

“I…I’m sorry,” Zrina stammered, feeling her cheeks flush. “There was a queue at the entrance to the docks and…”

The Grisha cut off her explanation with a wave of his hand and jerked his head towards the other end of the ship.

“Your bunk’s that way. Stow your gear and then come to the foredeck. Be quick though, you don’t want to keep Sturmhond waiting. Again.”

Below deck men, women and Grisha moved around stowing their belongings and readying for departure. Zrina had never been on a ship of this size and she wasn’t sure she even belonged now, gripping tightly to her pack, huddled deep into the collar of her kefta. She studied the other squallers, moving toward where they had formed a corner of bunks and set her belongings on the floor near the wall, earning a few dirty looks from who were supposed to be her peers and friends.

“Did you finally figure out how to use your wind, otkazat'sya?” One of them sneered, pushing past her one by one they slammed into her shoulders to remind her of her place.

Orphan. They had started calling her that at school, when her powers seemed fizzle and crack. She was a Grisha, born from two powerful squallers and placed on a pedestal she would never belong on. But she had not been abandoned, or refused like the other squallers seemed to believe. The power was there, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was her fear.

“You look as though you might be sick,” a voice called out as soon as the hull emptied.

Zrina spun to follow the sound only to find a lanky body resting haphazardly in one of the dirty canvas hammocks, a hat pulled down over their face.

“I will be fine, thank you.” She spoke, pinning her shoulders back she attempted to push away the nausea that churned in her stomach. There were a thousand ship hands like this one, mean and abrasive to newcomers. He was probably drunk on last night's whiskey and had just been looking for a quiet place to nap.

“There is candied ginger in the barrel behind you, place a piece between your teeth.” He said.

Zrina turned to look at the small barrel, perched atop a pile of others and popped the lid to find a stock of sticky, amber candy that smelled spicy but instantly quelled the rolling waves in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed a few, tucking them into her handkerchief and into her pocket before turning back to thank the man only to find him halfway up the stairs.

“You better hurry, the Kapitan is coming.”

Sturmhond.

She watched as the helpful, slightly irritating deck hand stripped from his dusty moth eaten jacket and hat, parading into the sunlight. The tight brown suspenders dug into his shoulder blades and rumpled the white tunic that was tucked into his trousers as he spun to stand next to Tolya and Tamar. The most famous Shu twins in Grisha legend. Zrina could barely believe she was sharing a deck with them, let alone the sky.

She found an open spot towards the center of the deck and walked towards it. She stood tall, chin up, shoulders pinned back as her mother would always tell her to do. No matter how in awe she was that she was in fact part of something this magnificent. No matter how hard her heart was beating in her ears, and Saints now it was looking for a way straight out of her chest. She stood tall. Like she belonged wherever she was, because she did.

As she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve in an effort to focus on something other than the nerves going haywire in her body, a ruckus of boots stomping and whistles from the crew broke her way sending the focus of her vision forward where she was met with a pair of curious, iridescent eyes looking back.

It’s him.

At the ship’s bridge stood the illustrious Sturmhond. A tall man whose broad shoulders were squared in a commanding presence but his face held an entirely different air. Not that it commanded any less attention but he had a calm, almost serene look in his blue eyes and a satisfied smile accompanying it. She took a deep breath as he held Zrina’s gaze softly almost like he was studying her.

After lingering on her eyes for a while, his eyes, which were the same color of the water surrounding them, wandered further down until halting on the muted cherry color of her lips.

"Tell me, fair one, what is your name?" His voice carried through the winds as he addressed her.

"Z-zrina, K-apitan." The tremble in her voice broke the words apart as it wreaked over the rest of her body with a visible shiver that didn't go unnoticed. A small semblance of a smile formed on his lips.

"Kapitan Nikolai Lantsov." His arm stretched out and moved with fluid motion as a sign of welcome.

“Zrina’s our new squaller, Kapitan,” the snarky grisha from before interjected.

“Thank you Delyan, but I’m sure she’s more than capable of speaking for herself,” the Kapitan smirked, throwing a wink towards Zrina.

She nodded and kept her tall stance but inside, Zrina’s stomach roiled and she wished she could sneak another piece of ginger.

“We weigh anchor in ten minutes,” Kapitan Lantsov commanded and then fixed his intense gaze on Zrina. “Our new squaller can take us up.”

As he turned and stalked off towards the stern Zrina stared numbly at the platform where the squallers stood when steering the ship. She could do this, at least, that’s what she tried to convince herself.

Ten minutes seemed like no time at all before Zrina found herself standing on the wooden platform fighting the urge to pick at the cuffs of her kefta. She felt as if every single pair of eyes on the entire ship were upon her and she clenched her toes in her boots in an attempt to stop her knees from trembling.

She caught the piercing gaze of the Kapitan, who nodded once, and so she raised her hands and opened her palms. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, raising her palms higher. At the sound of whispers and even a few titters she opened her eyes again. The ship hadn’t moved.

“Saints,” she swore under her breath, her eyes dropping from the limp sails to the toes of her boots as she wiggled out the tension in her fingers before taking one more deep breath and readying her hands again.

When she looked up her eyes connected with his but this time she didn’t close them, instead she let herself get lost there. The blue in his eyes reminded her of the open sky on her face, swirling and brushing around her like she was a bird in the clouds.

Just as the wind tickled her fingertips and rushed through her kefta whispers of mockery floated around her, “razrusha’ya,” they said. And maybe they were right, maybe she was ruined. She couldn’t even lift a sail, she could barely muster enough wind to ruffle her hair.

“If you can’t do it, otkazat'sya, get down and let a real Grisha try,” Jadran hissed from his station below her, his dark brown eyes looked at her with disgust until Toyla spun, accidentally, slapping the Grisha in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. The commotion giving Zrina enough time to climb down from her post and offer it up to the next willing.

She stared down at her hands with tears in her eyes, “why don’t you work?” She breathed out the words in a feeble attempt to stay quiet and calm.

She could feel the stare of Korol Rezni on her as the ship raised through the air and joined the clouds. He watched her carefully as she moved around the ship, helping with tasks and struggling to fit in. Lanstov studied her with knitted brows and a tender smirk as she got down on her knees to help scrub the deck.

All the while Zrina waited for him to throw her overboard for being useless. What good was a squaller who couldn’t summon the wind?

She tried so hard but his presence, although not menacing, intimidated her.

"Zrina." She heard him call. Her back stiffened as she got up from her knees to address him.

"I think we start you slow so you can learn the ropes. Finish the deck, get you some food and once the sun sets, the night shift awaits you." that playful, boyish smile returned to his lips as his eyes lingered on her face a little while longer.

She didn't quite understand the softness he presented to her but she would be lying if it didn’t make her a little glad that she is getting to stay on the ship.

Zrina pressed her lips into a thin line, and nodded once, “Thank you, Kapitan.” She kept her eyes on him as she took two steps backwards before turning on her heel and heading over to help with ensuring everything on deck was secure.

She was in a battle with herself in her head, cursing her abilities for proving the other grisha right about her. Embarrassment at how she looked in front of the crew and her new Kapitan. The bustling bodies around her as everyone worked didn’t phase her in the slightest. All she could focus on was the fact that night would come soon enough, and then it was all up to her.

With an exasperated grunt, Zrina tied a tight knot in the last lifeline, tugging tightly and subconsciously taking out some of her anger. The words of the other Grisha danced through her head and it wasn’t until a heavy chuckle came from beside her that her eyes finally looked up from where she was working. “What did that rope ever do to you?” Tolya teased, crossing his arms over his chest with a playful smirk on his lips.

Zrina cleared her throat and shook her head, “I - I was just making sure it was secure,”

“Don’t let them get to you,” Tamar chimed in, hopping up on a barrel and rolling her eyes, “Some crew members like to forget that they were new to this too at one point.”

Zrina felt a little of the tension drain from her shoulders and she let out a sigh. They were right, she knew that, but hearing those words that she’d heard all her life thrown at her in such an important moment had shaken her badly.

“Look, you interviewed for this commission, right?” Tamar asked and Zrina nodded her head in confirmation. “Exactly, so you were chosen out of all the others who interviewed too. You’ve got something that they didn’t have and I think you’re right where you’re meant to be.”

Zrina felt the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth and Tolya didn’t miss it either.

“Is that…is that a smile I see?” He teased, making Zrina chuckle. “There she is. Look, new girl, you’re on the night shift so take that as a grand opportunity. There’ll be practically no-one around so you can practice to your heart’s content, build your confidence. You’ll be back on the day before you know it. Might even be given your own ship.”

He nudged her shoulder with a twinkle in his eye and Zrina managed a laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” Tamar joined in, “and if anyone says anything else just remember you have as much right to be here as they do.”

Tamar slipped back off the barrel and clapped Zrina on the back before turning with Tolya and the pair of them sauntered off to the aft of the ship, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.

After a meal of biscuits and stew, Zrina returned to her bunk and tried to rest before dark but sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, her anxiety rising yet again, and she found herself staving off tears more than once. She was almost relieved when darkness finally fell and so she slipped from her bunk, refilled her stash of ginger pieces, and headed up on deck.

“Don’t ground us, otkazat'sya,” Delyan hissed as she stepped up to take his place on the platform.

Zrina threw him a blank look but it was hidden in the dim light from the few lanterns scattered about. The deck was blissfully quiet, although she knew there must be lookouts aloft, and she waited until Delyan was below deck before she raised her palms and felt for the wind.

It came easily this time, that tingling rush of power, and a breeze whipped around the bottom of her kefta. Zrina raised her face to the sky, beaming in relief and she twirled on the spot, laughing breathlessly as her wind played through her long dark waves, lifting the strands in a chestnut halo around her head.

Someone clapped softly from behind her, “marvelous.”

The Kapitan stepped forward into the long wispy strands of the moonlight, his eyes turned up toward the billowing sails in awe. “I knew you had it in you.” He said.

“Thank you sir,” Zrina nodded, all of the confidence rushing from her the moment his glassy eyes flickered down to her.

“Ah,” he huffed with a nod. The corner of his lips curling to the side, “under the scorching heat of the sun I am Kapitan, King, Sturmhond, handsome, daring, brave,” he laughed into the empty night sky with a smile on his face that warmed her cheeks. “But here with only the stars as my audience, I am simply Nikolai for they do not care that I am handsome and charming.” Zrina nodded uncomfortably with the idea of not addressing him by his title. “I must apologize for this morning, I suppose the nerves took hold of me.” She said, still concentrating on her fingers and how the power vibrated through them, calling to the wind so naturally.

“I would like a word with whoever taught you that you are less than magical,” his smile fell but his eyes reflected the constellations back at her. He stripped from his jacket, letting the cool air nip at the bare skin that lay beneath his loose white shirt as he walked toward her. He carried the air of a Saint, suffocatingly impressive but all the while, still just a man in awe of science and magic. “I have always been jealous of Grisha.”

“You, jealous?” Zrina scoffed before she could stop herself from being so impolite to her King, her Kapitan.

“Such an undesirable trait, I am aware.” He rolled up the sleeves of his billowy shirt and put his hands on his hips, staring at the sails again. “I used to stand on the balcony that overlooked parts of the little palace, sneaking away from my studies,” he looked at her over his shoulder. “I stood there until my tutors caught me, waving my hands around like a fool trying to learn the magic that could not be taught.”

"On this ship, your magic is a blessing. I won't tolerate anyone that tells you otherwise, Zrina." Nikolai took a few sure steps towards her, the heat in her cheeks coloring them in a rosy tint.

Even under the few stars and the moon shining onto them he noticed the way she reacted to his compliments.

"Look at that, I like that beautiful blush on your skin, milaya."

Zrina felt the heat spread through her body, failing to distinguish if this was her being intimidated by his presence or something else entirely. Something she never felt before.

She felt the wind drop a little and shook herself, reaffirming her grip on her power despite the Kapitan’s distracting presence.

“Sorry,” she grimaced, knowing he’d noticed the change in their flight.

“No apologies necessary,” he smiled warmly. “We’re in no rush to get to our destination, and night flying is designed to be a little less…taxing.”

He reached upwards, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his neck before doing the last thing that Zrina would ever have imagined. With a boyish twinkle in his eye he plopped himself down on the edge of the platform and leaned back on his hands with a satisfied sigh.

“You don’t mind if I stay here for a while do you?” He asked, tilting his head back to look up at her. “It’s a nice night but I don’t want to disturb your work.”

“I…I mean…” Zrina flushed as she fumbled for words. “It’s your ship Kapitan. You may do as you wish.”

Nikolai raised his eyebrow and his lip quirked up in a cheeky smirk.

“No!” Zrina answered quickly. “No, I do not mind.”

With an amused hum, Nikolai turned his attention back to the skies, kicking his legs like a satisfied child as he sat on the edge of the platform.

They stayed in silence like that for a while and slowly Zrina grew used to his presence. The slight shuffling noises and quiet sighs he let out became a comfort to her as she worked, although it no longer felt like work to command the wind to propel the ship. It was there in her mind, as if it always had been, and she found she no longer had to concentrate on that one task. As her mind began to wander she maintained that hold on her power and the ship continued to fly ever onwards.

“Ahem,” Nikolai cleared his throat in an unsubtle way of getting her attention and Zrina barely hid her smile.

“Yes Kapitan?”

“Are you due for a break? From the passage of the stars across the skies I am sure that you have worked long enough for a respite.”

“Perhaps,” Zrina replied. “But I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“Shut up and sit down here,” he laughed, patting the platform next to him.

She smiled fully then and when he saw it his face lit up with joy. Zrina clambered down and perched next to him, her hands in her lap and her crossed ankles swinging gently. Nikolai turned and sucked in a breath as if to speak but then paused. Tilting his head to the side he stared at her curiously, and then up at the sails that were still full of wind.

“The ship’s still flying,” he observed.

“Yes.”

“But you’re sat here.”

“You noticed that hmm?” She teased a little.

“Clever little squaller,” Nikolai said with amazement. “I knew there was something different about you.”

Zrina giggled, and turned her gaze up to the sky with a wide smile on her face. It was still a little surreal to her that she was actually on this ship as one of the main squallers, and now in charge of flying them through the stars. It was something her little self had only dreamt of when she started training. The words of the other crew members drifted from her mind as she let herself take in this moment and enjoy the view before them. She sighed happily and shook her head once, “Saints, it is beautiful isn’t it? I mean, I’m sure you’re used to it by now but -”

“Believe me, I can still be amazed by beauty,” Nikolai replied, quieter than she was expecting. Turning her head, she caught his blue eyes glancing over her with a soft smile tugging at his lips. A swarm of butterflies fluttered deep in her stomach as a blush took over her cheeks. Zrina thanked the Saints that it was dark enough and hoped he couldn’t see how his words had gotten to her. She felt a little embarrassed assuming it was her that he was talking about, but the slight twinkle in his gaze held her there in hope for a moment before she looked back down to her hands in her lap. “I’m sure you can, Kapitan,” Zrina finally replied, smiling over to him, “Can I ask you a question?” Nikolai hummed, looking out onto the deck as a playful look took over his face, “I suppose so,” he teased.

"What was your first journey like?" Her words came out with a little stutter as the reaction he evoked in her body was distracting her train of thought.

"It was terrible. Let's just say I had a similar experience to you. As a Kapitan you have so much responsibility and I wanted to prove myself to this crew. It got the best of me."

His voice got quieter towards the end, making Zrina search his eyes in the imminent darkness of the night.

"It's hard to believe with the ease that you command this ship, Kapitan Lantsov."

"Ahhh, milaya. Thank you for the sweet words."

He watched her for a second longer, surely observing the reaction his words caused in her and his face lit up, almost delighted to find that beautiful rosy color returning on her fair skin. It filled him with a sense of pride that he has the honor of watching this beautiful woman flustered with his words.

They must have sat there for an hour or more, each of them sharing stories with the other. Zrina had never felt more comfortable with someone and gradually the charming Kapitan broke down her defenses and she found herself sharing more of her childhood than she ever had before.

It was during a lull in their conversation that Zrina’s stomach let out a loud growl and Nikolai burst into peals of laughter at her flushed cheeks as she clutched an embarrassed hand over her abdomen.

“I see I am failing in my duties tonight,” he chuckled, “for I have allowed you to go hungry and the great Sturmhond has a reputation to uphold. He may be fearsome but he always makes sure his crew are fed, watered, and warm.”

Nikolai patted Zrina’s knee in a comradely gesture meant to comfort.

“Wait here but a moment.”

She watched curiously as he hopped off the platform and, with a wide grin over his shoulder, disappeared down one of the staircases that led off the poop deck. She heard a door close and then, not five minutes later, it opened again and a voice called up to her.

“Hie little squaller, I’ve secured us a feast!”

Zrina smiled and pulled her bottom lip through her teeth as she remembered what Nikolai had said about magic. With a deep breath and raised palms she searched for her power. Straight away she felt the draw on it from the wind in the sails but she ignored that part and focused on a single tendril which she encouraged to grow stronger and thicker, forming a net of air. In her mind’s eye she envisioned the net being cast and wrapping around the Kapitan, who was now setting foot on the stairs back up to the poop deck. She wrapped that net around him tightly and tugged, so hard that he lost his grip on the railing.

She laughed out loud at the very un-royal squawk that left Nikolai’s lips as he found himself being raised off the ground supported by a cushion of air. His consternation did not last long however, for he caught sight of Zrina and knew it was her doing. To her surprise and delight the dreaded Sturmhond spread his arms wide and leaned back into her net, trusting completely that she would not let him fall.

Something twisted then, inside her heart, and she lifted him further, bringing him level with the deck. She bounced him a few times and the giggles that left his mouth sounded so innocent and fun-filled that she could not help laughing alongside him. When his boots finally found the deck she was met with the biggest smile she had ever seen.

“That was incredible,” he looked around in awe. “And it just comes from you,” he rushed to her, cupping her face in his hands, “do you understand how incredible you are?”

Zrina swallowed tightly her only thoughts on how close Nikolai’s face was to hers and how his fingers felt against her skin. Being incredible was the last thing on her mind as the smell of sweat and cinnamon filled her nose.

“I apologize,” he whispered, his mouth so close to her face that she could feel his sweet breath on her bottom lip. “Toyla tells me regularly that I am too much for the common person to handle and I fear that I have overstepped by touching you.” He peeled his fingers away.

“Tell me then how can I be incredible and common?” She teased staring up at him as he straightened his posture.

“Perhaps not so common then,” he brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear and collected the food that he had dropped. He piled the bread and fruit between them, showing it off with the utmost of pride.

“Apples,” she gasped, grabbing the red fruit and bringing it to her nose to smell it.

Nikolai watched her, his blue eyes growing big with happiness as she savored the fruit, “had I expected this reaction to an apple I would have brought the barrel up.”

“I believe it would have gained you points on being the most thoughtful Kapitan,” she said shyly.

Zrina took a bite out of the fresh apple, some of the juice escaping down her mouth. Nikolai stepped closer and slid his thumb over her chin picking up the remaining apple juice, “I am not just Kapitan to you, milaya. Or, at least, that’s not what I want to be.”

She stared at him, looking a bit confused, “Then what are you, if not that?”

Nikolai shrugged and continued to move his thumb in a lazy circular motion. Gazing into her eyes he said, “That remains to be seen, little squaller.” He said, with a small smile and a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he knew something she was not aware of.

Zrina wasn’t expecting the sweet gesture, so instead of reacting like any normal person she startled and let the control of her magic slip. Suddenly Nikolai is knocked down and she is standing there, not knowing if she should laugh or apologize. She didn’t anticipate her magic reacting that way. Usually, her magic doesn’t react at all when she is presented with situations where she can get easily flustered or anxious.

As she was debating what to do and what to say, she heard Nikolai say, “I see I overstepped once again,” laughing as if she didn’t just knock him down unintentionally, that is.

“Saints! I didn’t mean to do that,” she said with a giggle while trying to help him get up.

“Intentionally or not, it was rather funny. I don’t get many opportunities to laugh and be carefree anymore,” he said with a far away look in his eyes. In that moment she wondered what made him think that he can’t laugh or feel joy, when everyone should have that in their lives.

“Well, I hope to be bearer of more joyful moments lapushka Nikolai,” her last words came out but a whisper and she swallowed thickly, hoping she was not overstepping at the use of them towards the King of Ravka, “if you so wish, of course.” Zrina let her gaze fall to the wooden deck below them unwilling to hold his gaze out of fear of what his answer might be, whether it be a positive response or a negative one because she truly didn’t know how she would handle either.

She once more felt the tingle of his skin pressed against hers as he tucked his forefinger under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. His blue eyes shone brightly under the moonlight more than the stars themselves, a content look in his eyes as he smiled tenderly. “Moya milaya, I think you know the answer to that. I can only beg the Saints to let me have as many as I can, for as long as you’ll allow me.” His voice drew goose bumps all over her body and his honest admission flowed like molten heat, setting her ablaze from the inside. Her breath hitched and a small whimper whispered into the dark sky peppered with a million and one stars as he lifted his other hand to carefully move the loose strand of hair from her usual tidily made braid and tucked it behind her ear so delicately, like she was made of the most precious material he ever seen.

“What is happening here?” She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Something that I hope will continue,” Nikolai whispered back, a soft smile on his lips.

A light breeze picked up and swirled gently around them, lifting up more tendrils of Zrina’s hair, which Nikolai tried to tame as he had the first. His efforts were in vain though, for the more he tried, the more strands the breeze took hold of.

“Milaya I think that is all you,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” Zrina replied lowering her gaze as a bashful flush painted her cheeks.

“There is no need for apologies,” he countered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. “The fact that you can do that at all is a marvel and I feel blessed that I am that much of a distraction to you,” he chuckled quietly.

To Zrina’s surprise she felt him press a gentle kiss against her hair and warmth blossomed within her chest. Again a warm breeze brushed through their coats and caused Zrina to shrink within the warm fur collar. Nikolai turned a set of bright blue eyes on her, his smirk producing the most devilish of dimples.

“You are like the mood rings they sell at the market, the wind changes with your smile.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip and it made every muscle in her body warm. “Curious,” he laughed leaning forward.

“Don’t keep secrets,” Zrina was brave enough to chirp.

“I just wonder how the wind would react,” he brushed his nose against hers and his breath fanned over her upper lip. “Zrina, would you be greatly opposed to a kiss because knowing how you react when I do feels pivotal to our adventure and of course for science.” He added like it might quell the nervous fireworks that seemed to fire off in her chest.

“For the science,” she mumbled as he brought his lips closer.

Nikolai wasted not a second for her to change her mind before he cupped her face in his large hand and pulled her chin to meet him. Their lips slotted together with delicate care as his fingers tangled into her wild hair and the wind pushed them up from the bench they were seated on. Nikolai giggled against her mouth as he deepened the kiss, needy for more as she let herself feel every spark of excitement he created.

“I very much like science Nikolai,” Zrina giggled as he reluctantly pulled away.

“Perhaps as much as I like your lips,” he stole another kiss and Zrina leaned into him as he pulled back. “Would you mind?” he laughed, looking nervously to the deck they floated above.

“Oh!” Zrina looked around them and noticed that they were in fact floating and it wasn’t just her imagination. “If this happened because of a single kiss, I wonder what would happen if it’s more than that,” she said with a nervous laugh. Her abilities were acting strange. She didn’t remember the wind being this powerful. Interesting development, indeed.

“Let’s see if I can bring us down,” she mumbled while trying to concentrate on not just snuffing out her wind all together and making them fall.

“What do you mean?” Nikolai asked nervously.

“Well, I’ve never done this before and I need to concentrate on not letting us fall. It looks like it will hurt if I do,” Zrina was trying not to laugh at the situation they found themselves in.

Tilting his head, Nikolai smiled, "I trust you.''

Zrina closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Thoughts of her Kapitan’s kiss stained lips moved like a film through her mind; calming it and bringing her focus back to where it needed to be.

She took in a soft breath through her nose, holding it for a second before blowing it through her lips. Zrina could feel Nik’s eyes watching her as the two of them started descending back down to the wooden deck below. While the whole situation still kept the butterflies fluttering around in her belly, for some reason, with this version of him beside her, she felt like she could accomplish anything.

When they were safely back down on the deck, Zrina took in one more deep breath, focusing her wind back upwards into the sails with a satisfied grin tugging at her lips.

“That’s my girl,” Nikolai whispered from beside her, brushing his fingertips lightly across her cheek.

A soft chuckle escaped her, and Zrina leaned into his hand, bringing her eyes back to find his blue ones watching her carefully.

“Do you think if we tried that again you may be able to keep our feet on the deck?” He teased, the fingers of his other hand entwining with hers.

“Perhaps we should sit first,” she giggled, “just in case.”

They sank back to their previous perches on the edge of the platform although this time there was far less distance between them. Nikolai toyed with Zrina’s hand, turning it this way and that, gently twisting their fingers together before untangling them once more.

“Tell me, little squaller, what does it feel like to hold the power to command the air?” He said softly, his eyes still fixed on their joined hands.

Zrina thought for a moment before raising his hand to face her, steadying it with one hand whilst she scraped a fingernail heavily over his palm and fingers, tracing patterns. His fingers twitched and he instinctively tried to pull away but then settled, watching intently as she continued to draw shapes against his skin.

“Like that,” she said. “A tingle but more, it is an urge, a necessity. I could no more deny it than I could deny…the need to breathe!”

The sails on the ship billowed a little stronger in response to her words drawing both of their attention and Zrina chuckled sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“That is something else you need to stop,” Nikolai said, retrieving his hand and nudging her shoulder. “There is no need for apologies on my ship.”

“Sor-“ she began but stopped herself at his raised eyebrow. “It is a hard habit to break.”

“Perhaps an incentive might work? For every hour you refrain from saying sorry you can have an extra apple in your rations.” He declared smugly.

“How about a kiss instead?” Zrina blurted before slapping her hand over her mouth and flushing as red as the apples she loved.

“Oh ho!” Nikolai laughed, his eyes twinkling with amused delight. “My bold little squaller. Those you can have for free.”

Her eyes fluttered as he brushed his nose against hers but instead of granting her another kiss, his teeth sunk into the flesh of her apple. She gasped, laughter trickling from her lips as he finally stole her breath and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to her mouth.

“You can have whatever you wish Zrina, just ask,” he said as he pulled away. His blue eyes were more serious than before. She felt the warmth from his words blossom in his chest but he still seemed so sad and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked.

“Of course not.” He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s just a feeling that plagues me in the quiet hours.”

“Is that why you are awake?”

“I hardly sleep anymore,” he answered, his brows kissing together. “The war is over,” he whispered to the clouds, “and yet-” he stopped again, choking on the words he meant to say out loud. “Zrina, is it silly to be more afraid of being King than I am fighting or flying?” He turned to her, the confident king gone from his gaze leaving behind the quiet, fearful puppy prince.

“Fear does not care if you are a king, Nikolai.” Zrina whispered, tangling her fingers into the loose opening of his tunic softly.

“Do not tell my advisors that,” he offered her a sad chuckle.

“You are already twice the man that the old king wished to be,” she said, “perhaps he was not afraid enough, too confident in his prejudice and laws. Perhaps what Ravka needs is a king afraid of failing, a king who walks with his fear instead of wielding it to harm others beneath him.”

He stared at her for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth upturned and the dimple returned to his cheek. She thought for a second she may have spoken too brazenly with her king but he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers and drew out a lazy kiss from her mouth as his hand slipped to rest around the base of her throat.

“Thank you,” he whispered in retreat.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Zrina shrugged, “It’s just words, but people often forget how powerful words can be. If I would have been surrounded by people that didn’t make me feel ashamed of feeling scared of doing something, I think I would’ve been a different person now,” Zrina knows how much the feeling of being afraid has influenced her life and knowing that someone so brilliant and strong as him is afraid of doing something makes her feel less alone.

“You speak as you know how it feels like. Tell me little squaller, what are you afraid of?” he asked bemused.

“Everyone is afraid of something, I guess,” she answered sleepily. The excitement of the day had finally got to her. “Don’t let people fool you into believing that they have it all figured it out when in reality they don’t,” Zrina was mumbling at this point. She didn’t even know if she was making sense or not.

“Fine way of not answering the question. Very well, I guess I’ll get that answer some other day,” he said chuckling.

A small smile tugged at her lips, “Do not worry, Kapitan. We will continue this conversation later… after some sleep. I can barely keep my thoughts straight.”

She started to get up, but he held onto her arm, stopping her. Zrina looked back at him, a question written on her face. “Would you stay here with me?”

“What? Sleep outside on the deck?” she asked, a little confused. “What if we get cold?”

Nikolai had a wicked glint in his eyes, “I can keep you warm.”

Zrina rolled her eyes and chuckled, “Be serious! I want to sleep.”

He continued looking at her, the playful glint in his eyes was now gone and replaced with a much softer gaze, “Yes, I want us to sleep on the deck. I want to show you something and I fear that if we go below deck, we might miss it.”

“What is it that you want to show me,” curiosity got the best of her.

“The reason why I like to stay up every night.”

“And what reason would be so important as to keep the great Sturmhond from his bed?” Zrina asked.

“Stay with me and find out,” he insisted as a charming smile bloomed across his face.

A fizz of nervous excitement grew in her belly as Zrina regarded the handsome Kapitan. She had overcome so many of her fears today that she may as well continue with another.

“Alright,” she murmured, nervously tucking her hands up into the sleeves of her kefta.

The beam of joy that came from Nikolai made her heart soar and she was utterly grateful for the courage she’d found that made her say yes. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest as he settled them both against the side of the platform and then bent his head down to give her one more sweet kiss. She could feel his hum of delight as she nuzzled deeper against him. As their breathing grew deeper and more steady, just beginning to take on the rhythm of sleep she murmured against his chest.

“Everything.”

“Hmm?” he responded sleepily.

“I was afraid of everything,” she whispered, but there on the deck, as Nikolai tightened his arms reassuringly around her, Zrina found herself unable to be afraid of anything at all.

A flutter across her cheek and then the softest whisper against her lips pulled Zrina slowly from her slumber. Her mouth curved into a soft smile as her eyes opened and found herself staring into the ocean blue gaze of the Kapitan. He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his lips, kissing her gently once, and then a second time before returning her smile with his own.

“Good morning, Milaya,” he rumbled, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Is it?” Zrina asked, for the sky was still mostly dark.

“Almost,” he said, bumping his nose against hers and chuckling low in his throat. “I would like to share this moment with you, if I can.”

Unwrapping his arms from around her he rose to his feet and held out his hand. She took it gladly, allowing him to pull her up and lead her over to the starboard rail. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her once more as they took in the sky that began to lighten in the east.

“Watch this,” he murmured in her ear before resting his head against hers.

Zrina placed her hands atop his, lacing their fingers together as the sky began to grow brighter along the horizon. The scattering of clouds below them remained dark islands in a midnight sea and then suddenly there was a blinding flash of brilliant white as the sun made its first appearance of the brand new day. The sky flowed rapidly into an ombre of blues, whilst the clouds began to glow orange and the world below looked as if it were on fire.

Zrina could not stop the tears that tracked down her cheeks at the sheer beauty of it all. She tightened her grip on Nickolai’s hands, fearful that she may get swept away by the intensity of her emotions.

“Nikolai,” she gasped in awe, unable to articulate the experience.

“I know, Milaya, I know,” he crooned in her ear, fully remembering how it felt to see this wonder for the first time.

Zrina turned slightly, her eyes darting between his face and the wondrous sunrise. He was bathed in a golden hue, looking every inch the king that he was, but the smile he wore was just for her. He raised his hand to her face and brushed away a tear gently with his thumb and she tilted her face up to him, going up onto her toes to press her lips against his. He tasted of sunshine, and new beginnings. “I have never shared this wonder with anyone before,” he murmured when Zrina finally pulled away, “but I would share each and every other sunrise with you, Zrina.”

“It would be my honor, Nikolai,” she whispered back and he pressed another kiss to her lips before they turned once again to face the growing daylight together.

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thesugarclubs-blog · 8 months

Text

Mirror Mirror - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: reverse snow white au, fairytale au, snow white Bucky & princess OC, pure fluff

word count: 9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1381215967-mirror-mirror-florence

Masterlist

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, nestled deep within the tall evergreen trees sat a small stone cottage.The roof was made of wood and straw with a garden of wild flowers lining the dirt pathway heading towards a large wooden front door. White smoke billowed from the chimney and the smell of fresh apple pie wafted through the forest with the faint sound whistling.

A man spun by the open window, singing softly to himself as he moved the broom over the grey stone floor. James smiled softly as a small chickadee landed on his shoulder and whistled along with him.

“Do you mind? I have to finish sweeping while dinner rests! The boys will be home from work soon,” he commented, using one hand to take the small bird onto his finger and set him onto the window sill.

With a small shake of his head, James balanced the broom on his shoulder in order to scoop his long dark hair into a bun that rested on the back of his neck. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of his white tunic and moved over the dark ceramic pot hung over a smoldering fire.

Looking into the pot James checked to make sure the stew was simmering nicely. Taking the long wooden spoon that rested to the side of the pot he stirred the stew around to make sure that none of it got stuck to the bottom and got burned. Taking out a little spoon from the pocket of his tunic James took a taste of the stew.

“Hmmm. Just perfect, I think it will be finished just in time for them when they come home” James smiled, turning to smile at the bird that was still resting on the window sill. It chirped in response.

"No," James shook his head, "there's enough salt this time."

The bird stomped on the sill, trilling into the air.

"That's nonsense," he rolled his eyes and tasted the stew again, keeping his eyes on the bird who watched him. A long mocking birdsong filling the air as James brows pinched together. "Okay, it needs a little more salt."

The bird chirped again. “I know, I know.” James sighed, “You were right. I was wrong.” James agreed to his little friend in defeat as he turned around to place eight little bowls onto the big wooden table.

As if he could tell, he heard his friends arguing from a distance.

Their familiar voices and playful bickering were unmistakable, and it brought a warm smile to James's face. It was a comforting sound, a testament to the strong bond they all shared–

“I can’t believe you ruined my favorite dungaree,” the door suddenly swung open, startling both James and the small bird who, huffing and puffing, flew out. “Your damn giant hands, Steven!”

“C’mon, Tony! Don’t be dramatic, it’s not like I did it on purpose!”

"It might as well have been! Why did you pull me back so hard?" Tony whined.

James saw Sam hold back a laugh at his brothers' argument as they all slowly trickled in, to which James shot him a playful glare.

"The rocks would have fallen over your giant head, otherwise!" Steve huffed in annoyance. He always meant well but his brother was not able to always see reason. Tony was as stubborn as the rocks of the mines they dug.

"Oh my god, will you two shut up? We get it," Clint rolled his eyes as he dropped his sack to the ground and moved around his bickering family.

Sam strolled over to the fire, lifting the lid of the stew and took in a big whiff, "Leave them alone, they're always like this when they're hungry,"

James smacked the wooden spoon onto the back of his brothers and shook his head, "All of you go wash up first and then we can eat"

The chaos that ensued everytime the family got home was one of James' favourite moments of his day. Sure, the quiet cottage was nice during the day when he needed to get things done but eventually it grew too quiet around him. Thoughts of the nights he'd spent alone in the forest before they took him in crept in from the edges of his mind but once his boys were safe at home, those memories disappeared once more, allowing a soft smile to tug at the edges of his lips.

A throat cleared behind him and he looked down to find Thor standing there, his hands hidden behind his back and a knowing smile on his face.

“Found another one for you,” he rumbled from beneath his thick blond beard and brought his clenched fist forwards.

James held out his hand and Thor deposited the heavy crystal into his palm. James almost squealed with excitement and leaned over to wrap his arms around Thor’s stout frame.

“Thank you Thor!” He breathed excitedly and hurried over to the window.

Finding a place on the frame for the clear crystal, James sighed happily as the sunlight refracted through it, casting rainbows across the opposite wall of the cottage.

Chairs scraped across James’ freshly cleaned floors as the seven of them finished washing up. They settled at the table, leaving the seat at the top for James.

“This looks delicious,” Steve beamed, as James set down a steaming loaf of bread in the center and turned back to the stove to dish up more stew.

“You think everything looks delicious, Steve,” Clint grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Because it does, James is an excellent cook!”

James grinned in thanks across the table where he was setting down a bowl in front of Natasha, her cheek smushed into her hand as her eyelids drooped. Tony nudged her gently with his elbow.

“Look alive, Nat.”

Nat shook her head quickly, swatting her hand out at Tony. “I’m awake, I was just resting my eyes a little. “The stew looks delicious as always. James,” Nat yawned as she leaned across the table and grabbed the knife by the bread and cut off a slice.

“Can we please eat… I’m really hungry” Loki said, playing with his spoon looking down at his bowl of stew with a longing look in his eye.

"Go on then," James winked at him, knowing that if he didn't give the okay Loki would sit pouting.

They all dug in without hesitation, the sounds of spoons scraping bowls and the soft satisfied moans filling the cottage.

"Breathe Thor," Steve warned, as Thor inhaled his stew in four disgusting bites. "There's always more!"

“It’s so good, though!”, Thor said, his mouth full with stew. “I could bathe in this food.”

“That’s disgusting.” Clint looked annoyed to his left, where Thor was seated with a big smile and remains of stew on his face.

“Language!” Steve pointed his finger at Clint happily.

“That’s actually not a bad word, Steve.” James leaned in and whispered into Steve's ear.

“Oh,” he responded a little embarrassed but continued eating

With their bellies full and the cozy cottage illuminated by the soft glow of candles, the family's evening continued in a familiar rhythm. After dinner, they gathered around the hearth, where the flames crackled and danced in the stone fireplace.

James began to tell one of his incredible tales, weaving a world of knights and magical creatures, some forged from fantastic metal. He recited the story of heroes battling incredible evil as all seven brothers found themselves captured by the grand gestures of his wrists, the dramatic flair in his voice and even Nat that night took her time trailing off on her usual spot on the armchair.

As the night wore on, and the firelight flickered, they all felt the deep contentment that came from being surrounded by the love of family and the magic of their kingdom far, far away. The enchanting forest whispered its secrets in the moonlit night, a silent witness to their cherished moments, a testament to the extraordinary life they had created together.

***

The forest was peaceful and serene, the warmth of the morning light shining through the trees and bathed the path in an emerald-tinged glow. It was exactly what Florence needed.

Clicking her tongue and tugging on the reins, she urged her horse, Alpine, deeper into the verdant greenwood. She breathed deeply once, and then again, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. Long had she yearned to escape the confines of the castle and the burden of royal life.

She tilted her head slightly as a sound filtered through the trees, one she would not have expected to hear. A deep, resonant voice carried a melody so sweet it piqued her curiosity and, tugging on Alpine’s reigns once more, she guided her noble steed in the direction of the alluring voice.

As she ducked beneath branches, traveling further into the blanket of green, the voice grew louder, stronger with each note.

Shielding her eyes from the sun as she came to a small clearing, Florence searched the area until she found the source of the voice. Crouched beside a hedgerow, plucking berries with careful thought, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

His dark hair glistened in the sun, loose and draping across one shoulder, giving her a glorious view of his stubbled cheek and sharp jaw.

Florence slowed Alpine, staying hidden a little behind the trunk of an old oak as she watched the man work, filling a wicker basket by his feet.

She watched him picking through as he bent over searching through the grass and occasionally pulling something out and placing it into the wicker basket. He continued to sing as he worked. The birds in the trees seemed to know the tune that he was singing and began to join in. Soon the branches were filled with birds chirping along.

Florence watched in amazement as she saw a rabbit hop into the clearing getting slowly closer to the man. The man noticed the rabbit and slowly held out his hand.

“Why hello there. How are you doing today?” he asked as the rabbit came up and sniffed his hand.

A smile played on her lips, the grown man was barely contained beneath a white tunic and dark blue vest. His yellow trousers strained about his thighs in protest to his knelt position and his dark hair pushed back by a thick red ribbon.

"Would you like to share?" He asked the rabbit, who seemed to curl into his touch.

The small rabbit seemed to respond to his words, moving towards the basket and plucking out a few of the berries that sat nestled into the whicker, pulling another soft chuckle from the mans plump lips.

"Not to many," she heard him say, shooing the small creature lightly, "These have to make pies for the boys and you know how they can eat"

The boys Florence thought, tilting her head to the side. Were there more mysteriously good looking men trasping around this far into the forest? Maybe that had been her problem. Only being presented to men in the kingdom instead of looking farther out. Not that she herself has been looking, but her father always made it seem like she needed someone to take care of her.

Urging Alpine slowly forward, the dark haired princess made her way out into the grass, clearing her throat softly so as to not startle the man before her, "Hey!" Florence called, "what are you doing out here?" she asked, curiously.

The man looked up sharply and the little gray rabbit darted in between his feet, peering around one of his shapely calves with a curious expression, it’s whiskers twitching nervously.

“It’s alright, Rocket. I’m sure this lady means no harm,” the man reassured, although he eyed the sword fastened to Florence’s hip with no small amount of suspicion.

“I am simply collecting berries and plums, Lady. They make the best pies and my family does tend to need a lot of feeding,” he replied, his voice rumbling deliciously through the clearing.

"You live in the woods, you and your family?" Florence asked, tilting her head curiously. The man nods, eying her with a wary gaze still despite his soft, confident words to the creature at his feet.

"Yes, a little cottage not far from here. My family, brothers and sister, they work down at the mine."

Florence nodded, a gentle smile on her lips, as she studied the man. There was no denying she wanted to know more about him, to learn what else made his blue eyes shine the way they did as he spoke to the rabbit.

"What's your name?"

"You ask a lot of questions," the man replied, his tone teasing as he stood to his feet, "why should I tell you?"

“Well normally when someone asks you your name the polite thing to do is to tell them. At least that’s what I’ve been taught” Florence responds stepping a little further into the clearing. Alpine followed closely behind her lightly nudging her shoulder.

The man chuckled a little and smiled, the smile reaching his eyes and his nose scrunching up a bit.

Florence couldn't help but smile at his own.

"I tell you what," he leaned down to pick up the basket of berries and folded his hands over the handle as he squared his shoulders, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

It was then she noticed how broad he was. His shoulders were wide with arms that would put any other woodsman to shame. The front of his tunic seemed to strain over his chest as he stood watching her with curious lake blue eyes. Alpine huffed behind her, nudging his nose into her back forcing a soft chuckle to leave her lips.

"I suppose that seems fair." She smiled, "you first."

The man tilted his head back and laughed, "I may have been raised in the woods, but I'm not a complete fool. Ladies first," he waved his hand out in front of him, gesturing for her to go.

"A baker and a gentleman," she quirked a brow.

"I do more than bake Sunshine." He grinned cheekily.

Florence tried to bite back the smirk that tugged at her lips, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest, "Down boy," she cocked her eyebrow, "I'm Florence. Your turn."

"Florence" the man repeated, tilting his head to the side, his blue eyes scanning over her features, "I'm James, but my family calls me Bucky"

The small rabbit appeared once more, tapping it's small paw onto James' leg, causing him to glance down and huff, "And this is Rocket"

Florence beamed even wider and crouched down, holding her hand out and rubbing her fingers together.

“Greetings Rocket, it’s an honor to meet such a fine looking rabbit as yourself.”

The rabbit hopped over to Florence’s outstretched hand and touched his little nose tentatively to the tips of her fingers.

A huff from behind her elicited a chuckle from James and she looked up to see him leaning over and whispering in Alpine’s ear whilst stroking a large yet gentle hand down the horse’s neck.

“I apologize,” she began. “This is…”

“Alpine, yes, I know. And apparently you two haven’t eaten since dawn.” James raised an amused eyebrow at her dumbfounded expression.

“Well, it seems you’re already acquainted with my hungry friend.”

Alpine huffed again, head butting gently against James’ hand.

“Yes, yes. I’m getting there,” he laughed. “Florence, would you be so kind as to join me for lunch?”

Florence met James’ gaze, a smile spreading across her lips. She was sure she was taught something about strangers as a child but when one was as endearing and handsome as James, well…

“That depends,” she replied, “will I get to taste this delicious sounding pie you’re going to make?”

James grinned at her in response. “Of course” he said

“Our cottage is just through the trees back here. My family are down the mines at the moment, but they will be back soon for some food. They are a bit of a rowdy bunch just letting you know.” James said turning around and walking across the clearing with rocket hopping along beside him.

Before Florence could respond Alpine began to follow behind James with a slight spring in his step. It hit Florence then what James had known her horse’s name and that they hadn’t eaten sine dawn.

“Wait… can you actually talk to animals!?” She called racing to catch up with James. “Like understand what they are saying?”

“Yeah…you can’t?” James asked, a frown forming on his face that turned into a light grin. Even though he was being sarcastic, Florence had to admit that his smile was addicting.

“How?” Now she was the one smiling as she caught up with James, Alpine, and Rocket.

James shrugged in response, “I don’t know, actually. I like to believe it’s a gift. I feel some kind of trust between us like I have a special bond with animals. It’s hard to explain.”

Florence nodded as she understood. “So you are a crazy person?” she said, making James stop. He looked at her like she said something wrong, but then he burst out into laughter.

"Crazy about sweet berries maybe," He smiled at her, running his hand along Alpine's neck, "but mostly sane in every other way."

"Mostly?"

James smirked, "I live with seven siblings, would you be completely sane?"

Florence's eyes bugged wide, "Seven!? How do you get anything done?"

"They spend most of their days down at the mines, gives me some quiet time during the daylight." James said with a beaming smile, "It's my responsibility to take care of them and there's a great pride in growing and cooking delicious food for the ones you care for."

“That’s a nice sentiment, how you care for your family,” Florence could see how much he loved his family with all his being. That love radiated from him every time he mentioned his family.

They fell into a lovely silence as they walked towards his home. Her stomach grumbling loudly enough for it to be heard across the forest.

“Hungry?” James says laughing at her and her stomach. “Luckily for you, we’re here.”

As the small stone cottage came into view, Florence allowed herself to pause and take in the scene before her. The contrast between her palace and the house nested in the trees before her took her back just for a moment. A sense of peace and comfort washed over her and a small smile found its way onto her lips.

"So eight of you live here?" She questioned, following James' lead up the pathway.

James hummed and nodded, chuckling lightly, "It's a bit tight but we make it work. Honestly, there's no other place I'd rather be"

Florence took in a small breath of the fresh pine air, and hooked Alpines reins over the wooden hitching post that sat to the left of the front door. Aside from the woodland creatures, she found herself wondering if they had many visitors or horses hidden somewhere. Maybe it was a habit of his bringing women he met in the woods back to his cottage, claiming he had pie and a deep love for his family.

"It's cozy and sweet," she smiled once more, following him through the lard wooden door.

The main room of the cottage was a refreshingly cool contrast against the heat of the morning sun and Florence sighed deeply. It smelled of pine, soap, and…home.

There was a large wooden table with eight chairs around it, right easy chairs surrounded a large stone hearth, and a wooden staircase led up to what Florence assumed was a second floor.

She gasped in delight at the twinkling rainbows that were cast across the back wall of the room and she found herself lifting her arms and twirling slowly around. Laughing in delight as the spectrums danced across her skin she halted as Alpine let out a deep whinny.

“Don’t be mean, Alpine,” James admonished quietly. “Everyone needs moments of joy in their life.”

He quieted the rambunctious horse by reaching over to the vegetable bin and pulling out a carrot. He offered it to an eager Alpine, who snapped it up with a huff of thanks.

"Yes, Alpine, don't be mean," Florence repeated, coming to a halt and standing with her hands on her hips. She heard James chuckle softly behind her and flashed him a beaming smile over her shoulder.

"Make yourself at home," James offered, gesturing to a cosy looking armchair in the corner. It looked well-loved, like the rest of the cottage, rough around the edges but so well cared for.

Florence made a beeline for the seat, sinking into the soft cushion as she watched James separate and wash the freshly picked fruit.

He moved through the small cooking area gracefully, like he'd danced his way through it a million times before and she got the feeling that he probably had. Every once in a while those blue eyes glanced up at her with a soft smile when he found she was watching and it only spread the soft thrum of butterflies in her chest throughout her limbs.

"I don't see many women ride through these woods alone," he blurted after a few moments, "matter of fact, I don't see any women ride through these woods."

Florence smiled, "So there's no secret lair teeming with damsels in distress you've saved?"

James huffed out a laugh and shook his head as he moved on to inspecting a batch of plums, "Even if there was, you think I'd give away my secrets?"

"Crazy and possibly murderous," She grinned, "I've hit gold with you."

She could see the faintest blush spread across his cheeks and beneath his stubble at her remark.

"I don't know 'bout gold, but I'd like to believe that I'm good company," he told her with a hint of shyness in his tone. She watched as he put together a plate of berries and plums and turned to walk in her direction and extended it to her.

"At least before I lure you to my secret lair, m'lady," he ended with a mischievous smirk and a wink thrown her way.

Florence couldn't help the huff of delighted laughter that left her at that, relishing in the light feeling filling her as she shared a light banter with James. Even more so when he laughed sweetly along with her with a red tinge still tinting his cheeks.

“Oh, so this isn’t your secret lair, then?” Florence couldn’t help going along with this playful banter. She didn’t really believe that a person like him, that had the ability to speak with animals, would do something bad to her. Unless, you know, he used said ability to ask the animals to be part of his craziness and lure damsels in distress to his lair.

“Now, why would I lead a lady into this cozy cottage where my family lives only to murder her?” James had a twinkle in his eyes while he said that.

With a light chuckle, Florence shrugged and shook her head, "I'm note sure, you're the criminal mastermind here, not me" she joked, popping a berry into her mouth.

James' laugh echoed out through the cottage as he moved back through the kitchen to assemble the pie he kept bragging about. Silence fell over them once more, her hazel eyes watched him worked, taking note of a small red cardinal that sat perched in the window.

"She's just a guest," she heard him mutter before the bird chirped back at him, "you can go now, Redwing," he muttered once more, moving his gaze over towards her as drifting sunlight caught his ocean blue eyes.

“Where do you hail from, Florence?” James asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

“I, umm, I live on the far edge of the forest,” she replied hesitantly, and James’ eyes narrowed slightly before he smiled at her once more.

“Then you must definitely be hungry, having traveled so far,” he said, and with a courtly swoop, placed a plate before her piled with bread, cheese and some of the berries. “We’ll have to wit a little longer for the pie,” he admitted, although the enticing scents of warm berries and sweet pastry were already creeping through the cottage.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully, and pushed the plate between them in an offer to share.

She took some of the bread and placed a piece of cheese on top of it. Taking a bite she sighed. “Hmmm, this bread is amazing. Probably some of the best I’ve ever had. Did you also bake this?” She asked, taking another bite of the food. The bread was light and fluffy and the crust had a satisfying crunch to it.

“Thank you, yes I also baked the bread. Since we live quite deep in the forrest I make a lot of our food. We rarely head to any of the surrounding villages… when we do it’s mainly for delivering what my brothers and sister collect from the mines. I mostly stay here though” James said, taking a seat across from her and picking up a plum from the plate and taking bite out of it.

"What were you doing so deep in the forest anyway?" He questioned, as he examined the purple fruit in his hand.

With a soft hum, Florence shrugged unsure on how to actually answer that question without giving away her status. The truth was she wasn't built for the life her father wanted for her. She wanted to do more than sit around and look pretty when she knew the kingdom across the dark forest was suffering. The king would tell her how dangerous it was in the woods and how that kingdom had fallen under evil rule when the prince disappeared, yet still, deep within herself, Florence knew there had to be a way for her to fix it.

She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head once, realizing she had been lost in thought, " I just went out for a morning ride. Alpine needed to stretch his legs and riding around our village wasn't really cutting it, so we went a little farther than expected but it seems to have worked out for us," she smiled, taking another bite of the bread.

“I think not just for you,” James said, a soft blush painting his cheeks.

They stared at each other a moment before James cleared his throat and looked bashfully away.

“I…I need to check the pie,” he stammered, rising from the table and heading over to the oven as he wrapped a cloth around his hand for protection.

When he opened the door a waft of spiced heat filled the room and even Alpibne whickered from his place at the window.

“Be patient, big fella,” James laughed. “It’s still too hot, even for you.”

Florence watched in admiration as James placed the large pie dish on the table and cut two slices and then a third small sliver, which he put onto plates. He collected an earthenware jug from which he poured a generous helping of cream over the two lives and then set the third plate at the window.

“Blow on it first,” he instructed and Alpine did so, huffing on his little treat so dramatically that Florence feared he would blow it clean off the plate.

At a nod from James, the horse snaffled down the pie and James then joined Florence at the table, still chuckling at the horse’s antics. He slid one plate in front of Florence and then handed her a spoon. She took a generous scoop, making sure to blow on the steaming mouthful although not quite as dramatically as Alpine and then placed it in her mouth.

She took a bite and let out a satisfied moan. “Oh my… this pie is amazing” she said before digging back into the pie. She heard James chuckle as he watched her eat her slice of pie.

“So what about you? Where are you and your family from or have you always lived in the woods?” She asked looking up at him after eating a good portion of her slice. She noticed how he stilled at her question before slowly putting his spoon down his eyes darting to look out the window.

“I-”. James sighed, “I’m sure you don’t want to hear that.” He slowly shook his head and looked down at the wooden floor.

“I do,” Florence said, slowly taking James’ hand into hers. She didn’t want to overstep a line, but she could also feel that James needed some sort of comfort.

“Okay,” he smiled softly. “I was younger when I came here. I don’t know much about that night it all happened, but…one day, a man brought me into the woods. We walked until the sun had set. I didn’t know who sent him, and at that time, I didn’t know why, but the older I got, I knew his purpose. He was out here to end my life.” James paused before he continued, “He couldn’t do it, so he left me to die in the woods. I survived day and night before finding this little cottage. At first, I thought it was an old empty house, but then I met these six boys and one girl, and it almost felt like all of this happened for a reason. Because if that man hadn’t let me live, I wouldn’t have found my family.” He smiled as he looked around the cottage, his eyes stopping at the eight chairs around the kitchen table.

“Oh, James,” Florence mumbled. She didn’t know what to say other than ‘I’m sorry’ but those words cannot convey anything other than emptiness. Because how do you express that you are sorry that the person didn’t die-that they survived- a situation like that?

“It’s okay,” James whispered, as if knowing what she wanted to say.

“Do you know who sent that man? Florence asks with determination in her voice, as if she might go this instant and punish the person that tried to take away a soul as pure as his.

James looks away from her, but she catches the sadness in his eyes. It’s a sadness so deep that it tugged at her heart, “I don’t know. It’s heartbreaking to think that there is a person out there that has the type of hatred to want another person to just take away like that.”

Florence knew he was struggling to come to terms with that because this man, who clearly is the most fairest person she has ever encountered, has lived through unimaginable things and, despite everything, still wants to believe that there is still some goodness in this world.

A comfortable silence fell through the cabin as the two of them sat there, in the confessions. The afternoon sun brought a certain glow through the crystal and illuminated everything in it's path. James' company mixed with the fresh pine air drifting in with the breeze was a new experience for Florence. She could stay in this moment, in this place forever if she was given the option. To not have to return to the confinds of the palace walls was secretly what she'd wanted for a long time.

Florence cleared her throat and moved to stand up, catching the orange glow in her hazel eyes as the sinking sun brought her attention to how late it had gotten. "I should go," she said quickly, bringing her plate into the kitchen.

James followed her movements, and grabbed her hand lightly before she could make it out the door, "Wait, will I see you again?"

With a small sigh and a soft smile, she looked up to meet his eyes as she nodded, "Tomorrow. In the clearing we met in this morning,"

The man nodded in response and brought the back of her hand up to his lips, kissing it gently, "Tomorrow it is,"

With that, Florence made her way out to Alpine and untied his reins, mounting him quickly. She glanced back at the handsome man leaning in the doorway of the stone cottage before kicking Alpine into a gallop through the trees on their way back to the palace.

The next morning Florence rushed out of the great hall and down to the kitchens with her mouth still stuffed full of bread. She threw some food and a ceramic bottle of ale into a sack and almost ran to the stables.

“Woah there, Princess, where are you going in such a hurry?” The Head Steward asked as she nearly ran him down.

“Iiiiiit’s such a nice day I thought I’d take Alpine for a ride,” she squeaked breathlessly, bouncing impatiently on her heels.

“You have duties to attend to, your Highness,” he admonished, but the Princess pretended not to hear him as she bolted off.

She felt a little guilty for pushing Alpine as hard as she did in her eagerness to reach the clearing where she had met James the day before. She knew she was early but there was still a pang of disappointment when she arrived and James was nowhere to be seen. There was a little red bird however, who looked remarkably like the one she’d seen the day before. Feeling a little foolish she cocked her head and spoke.

“Redwing?” She asked and almost laughed in relief when the bird twittered and hopped over to her.

“Hi, hello, I, ummmm, I don’t know if you remember me from yesterday but I’ve come to see James. Is he around?”

The bird looked at her and tilted its head this way and that but made no response.

“You know, James? Tall, blue eyes, sings, bakes? Ummm, oh, he said his family called him Bucky?”

At the last the bird let out a series of whistles, bobbed up and down a few times, before taking off in what Florence thought she remembered as the way to the cottage. It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps and a melodious humming hurrying along the path.

James looked up at the sound of her approaching, the brightest smile blooming across his face, eyes glistening in the sun.

“There you are!” He called cheerily, tucking the handle of his basket into the crook of his elbow. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”

His words were laced with a chuckle and he bound towards her as Florence stepped forward to meet him.

“What delights have you been picking today?” She asked, peering into his basket.

“I noticed there are boysenberries growing on the bramble through the clearing,” James explained, “I was just about to finish up with this hedgerow of raspberries before you arrived.”

James offered up the basket and Florence plucked a raspberry from the wicker, popping it into her mouth with a delighted hum.

“Well, I would love to help,” she replied softly, “I don’t forage much but it seems like a lovely way to spend the afternoon.”

“I’ll show you how to find the best berries then. Just follow me” he smiled leading the way down a narrow path that was lined with boysenberry bushes.

“So what you need to do is look for the berries that are dark purple and fall right into your hand when you gently tug at them. I always pick from the middle branches of the bush because the top branches are for the birds and the bottom branches are for the rabbits. And I always make sure to leave enough for any other animals that might come by.” James smiled at her showing extremely how to pluck the most scrumptious berries.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. I don’t think anyone would think about leaving some for the animals,” she said with a hint of wonder in her voice, while plucking the berries just as James taught her.

It felt natural to do this with him, something that she could see herself doing for a long time to come.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see James sneaking some berries into his mouth. James catches her looking at him savoring the delightful flavor of the berries and chuckles, “Do you want to try them? They’re good, I swear.”

“Don’t mind if I do, kind sir,” Florence picked up some berries from the basket and popped one into her mouth. Relishing the flavor of the berry, she goes to pick up more from the basket when the basket is suddenly taken away from her.

“Woah, there. Don’t eat all of them now. Leave some for later!” James chuckled.

Florence laughed and tossed another berry in her mouth with a playful smirk, "I can't help it! You introduced me to these," she commented, earning her another deep chuckle from James.

"Go try the bushes over there, I've got these ones," He pointed to a space a few feet away from where they were standing.

Her smile remained on her lips as she nodded, taking one of his spare baskets and heading to where he told her. There was something about his presence that brought a certain feeling of peace and happiness to her soul. She was beginning to understand what it felt like to have someone genuine in her life.

It was nice, picking berries in silence. Doing some manual labor and taking her day into her own hands instead of strolls through the garden or sitting in the throne room for meetings. The quiet chatter of James' voice drifted through the breeze and floated through her ears. For the amount of animals that were around and who James liked to speak too, it didn't even cross her mind to look over and see what it was. There was a higher pitched second voice that softly mixed with it, but Florence assumed she was either going fully crazy or it was a mockingbird playing off a conversation it had heard.

"Hey look at this!" James called, pulling over her attention to a rip purple plum that flew through the air as he tossed it and caught it again in his fingers.

Florence hummed and her eyebrows kissed together, "I didn't know there were plum trees around this clearing?"

"There's not! Some nice woman gave it to me," He smiled sweetly.

“Nice woman? What nice woman?” Florence asked with suspicion, having never seen another soul in these woods before, not even James.

“She seemed like a nice old lady,” he shrugged, tossing the plum into the air once more. “I mean, she only found one plum and she gave it to me because she said I looked like the kind of person who would appreciate it. I gave her some boysenberries in return!” He protested, as if Florence would think *he* was the one taking advantage.

“James, I don’t think you should eat that,” she said carefully, making her way across the clearing towards him.

“I don’t see why not,” he countered. “It looks so ripe and juicy and…” his voice tailed off as he looked at the plum.

His eyes grew wider, seeming to glow with an eerie hue, and he stared at the plum as if mesmerised. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and began to bring the plum towards his mouth. Florence felt as if she were wading through molasses as she tired to reach him.

“No, James, don’t-“

It was too late. James brought the plum to his lips and took a large bite. Florence watched as his lips curved up into a satisfied smile and a rivulet of juice made its way down his scruff-covered chin. His eyes crinkled in delight then they widened in surprise.

Florence could do nothing as James’ jaw fell slack and his arm dropped to his side, lax fingers spilling the plum from his hand. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head before closing. The plum rolled insidiously across the space between them and knocked against Florence’s foot before she finally freed herself from the thrall she was under and launched herself across the clearing towards the fallen man she had come to care for so much.

"James? James!" Florence panicked, heart thudding hard against her ribcage as she fell to her knees beside him. "Please, please. James, can you hear me?"

She brushed her fingers delicately over his cheek, sweeping tendrils of chestnut hair from his face. Timed seemed to slow as she sat beside him in the grass, covering James with gentle touches and murmuring softly in an attempt to rouse him. She didn't know how long it had been before she heard a rustle, the thump of tiny feet on solid ground and she looked up to see Rocket, snuffling around the plum.

"Oh, Rocket, no! Don't touch that!" She cried, and the small rabbit peered up at her, nose twitching as he made a small timid sound at the sight of his friend sprawled out on the ground. He hopped over, burrowing in close to James' side. "I'm so sorry, Rocket, the plum -- it must have been poisoned. Do- do you know the way to his cottage? Maybe his family could help?"

The small rabbit seemed to nod his head at Florence in understanding. “Perfect, now all I have to do is figure out how to get him there.” Florence said standing back up. Alpine came up behind her and nudged at James’s side then looked over at Florence. The horse then knelt down and rested on the forrest floor next to James and turned his head to her.

“Alright Alpine, let’s see if we can make this work” she said grabbing James under the shoulders and slowly lifted him up and draped him over her horse. Once she was sure he was on properly she stood back up and Alpine followed suit. Taking hold of Alpines’ reins in one hand and holding James in place with the other she looked down at Rocket.

“Ok, Rocket lead the way” she said and the rabbit began to hop into the forrest. Florence followed quickly behind hopping that someone would be at the cottage when she got there. Rocket seemed to understand the urgency of the situation because the little rabbit was moving fast through the wood. It was not long before the cottage came into view and she could hear people talking from inside.

The closer she got to the house, the more scared she became because, what would she tell them?

She didn't want them to think badly of her. From how he spoke of his family, they mean the world to him and she had hoped to meet them under better circumstances. Becaise she knew, deep down, that James had come to matter to her far more than she could have expected in the short span of time they had known each other.

With her heart in her throat, she came to a stop in front if the cottage door and knocked once. The chatter inside immediately stopped and steps thuded on the floor before opening the door.

"Hello– oh I'm sorry.." her voice trailed off as she saw who opened the door. A dwarf. Much shorter than she'd expected given James stature, small in size with kind eyes starring at her expectantly before drifting off behind her and widening comically at the man laying on her horse' back.

"James! What's happend to him?" He rushed out the door to his brother before the sound of many more steps came barreling down the door at his raising voice.

"What have you done to him?!" He shouted angrily at Florence, making her both frightened to respond but angry with how she was being treated.

"Nothing! It wasn't me!!" Florence tried to assure them men before her, with slight frustration in her voice, "we were berry picking and James said this nice old woman gave him a plum! I tried to tell him not to eat it but he went into this trance and then he just, collapsed."

His family moved around Alpine and managed to get James down, carrying him with the seven of them into the small cottage. Florence wasn't sure if she should follow them or if they still assumed it was her fault. Maybe it had been. The ominous red glow in the middle of the plum should have made her work harder to stop him from taking a bite. Or maybe she should have just looked over when she heard him talking and she would have seen who it was. There had to have been something she missed.

"James!" The blonde man called, kneeling down beside his brother and putting his ear close to his face, "he's breathing," he assured his siblings before glancing up at the doorway where Florence now stood, "what did this woman look like?"

"I - I don't know, I just heard him talking to someone, but I thought it was one of his creatures so I didn't think to look," Florence breathed, pulling her lip between her teeth and looking down at the concrete floor, "But I did see a flash of red hair when she walked away," she pointed out.

The redhead female looked at her brothers, "Wanda. We should have known she'd find him one day. But he should have been more careful,"

“We told him again and again about talking to strangers,” a shorter, blond-haired, dwarf grumbled, casting a disparaging eye over Florence.

“Easy Clint, she brought him back to us. She didn’t need to do that,” the first dwarf replied, stroking a hand through James’ hair.

“Who is Wanda?” Florence asked, subconsciously clutching at the hilt of her sword in a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by the seven dwarves before her.

“You’re up Steve,” Clint grumbled, folding his arms in a huff as the dwarf that held James cleared his throat.

“Wanda is James’ step-mother. She married his father when James was but a babe and, as he grew, she became convinced that he would take the crown from her.”

“She’s achoo a witch!”

“Aye Tony, I was getting to that,” Steve said, offering his brother his handkerchief.

“She knows that as long as James lives then her power will weaken. When he was but a boy she commanded her huntsman to bring him into the forest and take his heart!”

“That’s horrendous!” Florence exclaimed, her hand reaching out to cup James’ cheek, a gesture not lost on any of his found siblings.

“The huntsman took one look at him and couldn’t go through with it. He abandoned James in the forest knowing we would find him and take him in,” Steve finished.

“But now she’s found him and tried to finish the job!” Another, dark-haired, brother cried.

Florence couldn’t stop the tears that tracked down her cheeks.

Never had her heart ached so much for someone. She glanced down at James, serene and soft in his sleep-like state. Florence didn’t understand how this had happened to someone like him, James was so kind and gentle, how anyone could try to harm him the way the—

“Wait, did you say crown? He’s… he’s royalty?”

Tony nodded, “his father was the king. James should have been next in line to the throne if Wanda hadn’t… well, you heard the story.”

Florence could do nothing but stare at them all, shocked by this new revelation.

The silence was broken by a soft trill sounded from the windowsill, and Florence turned to see Redwing, perched on the wood with several other birds. Behind them, a doe and her fawn peered into the cottage, while Rocket sat solemnly in the doorway.

“They care about him,” Florence whispered, “he made a life for himself out here.”

“We all care about him,” James’ sister stepped forward, a yawn stretching out her words, “he’s our brother.”

Florence nodded, steadfast as she swept the last of her drying tears from her cheeks. There had to be a way to wake James, surely.

Florence looked from James’s family gathered around him where they laid him on the table to the assortment of animals all peering in to see their friend and back to James. The story his family just told him sinking in… James was the missing Prince from the Kingdom from the other side of the forest. Hadn’t she just been thinking that there was a way that she could fix that? Somehow, whether it be fate or destiny or her horse she had stumbled on said Prince.

Looking down at James who seemed to be in a deep sleep she took a deep breath. “There has to be something that we can do. There is always a way to reverse magic… maybe, if I ride back to the palace I can bring back our healer. He knows some magic… maybe he can help” Florence said looking back to his family.

“Palace achoo you live in a palace?” The one called Tony asked

“Yes… My father is the King of the Kingdom on the other side of the forest. And if James is really the Prince from the other Kingdom then it is our duty to help save him. His Kingdom has diminished since he disappeared. I’ll go right away” Florence replied about to head out the door, but before she felt she turned back around to James and knelt over him.

“I’ll ride as fast as I can James, I promise” she whispered in his ear before placing a soft kiss on his lips. She stood back up and headed back towards the front door his family stepping to the side to let her through all watching her silently.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she went to climb atop her horse, the family and the animal's hopeful gazes following her every step.

Florence didn't know for sure if her family's healer could help James, the Queen's sorcery being much more powerful and darker than anything they'd ever heard of.

It was fueled by hatred and greed.

She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt people– especially James, so willingly.

He was the last person she'd ever wish harm to. So sweet and kind and caring. And selfishly, from the moment of brief contact their lips had moments ago, his lips so soft and plump under her own. She wished to have the opportunity to kiss them again and again.

She would do everything in her power to help him, and maybe, to return him home. If he wishes so.

Alpine hooves were heavy as they began to move, stopping abruptly and just as she was about to question why, a few shocked gasps could be heard before the birds birched on the cottage window started chirping excitedly.

The birds began to fly in circles around her head and Florence had to resist the urge to bat them away. She dug in her heels and to move Alpine onward but he remained stubbornly in place.

“Come on, boy, we need to go. We have to help him!” She demanded, her voice cracking.

“Princess!” A voice cried. “Come quickly!”

She turned to see Steven beckoning her madly from the door of the cottage and she leapt from her horse and hurried towards him.

“What’s the matter?!” She cried, worried that the witch had found a way to deliver James some greater torment.

Florence entered the cottage once more but halted abruptly as she took in the scene before her. James was propped up on his elbow, one hand rubbing across his forehead, his brows drawn down in a frown.

Like a magnet his eyes found hers and his face erupted into a smile so joyful that Florence could do nothing else but return it.

“You’re here!” He exclaimed, though his voice was hoarse.

“Of course I’m here,” she replied, striding over to his makeshift bed on the table. “I was only leaving in search of help.”

“Please don’t leave,” he whispered, reaching his hand out towards her.

She grasped it and he pulled her closer, managing to drag himself upright.

“I don’t understand.”Florence murmured. “You were under a spell so strong…”

“It was you!” One of the dwarves replied.

“Loki is right, Princess,” Natasha confirmed with a yawn.

“Princess?” James mumbled, not able to tear his eyes away from Florence’s face.

“Aye,” Loki said with a dopey grin. “You woke him with your kiss.”

“ I did not,” Florence protested, but could not help the way her eyes flickered down to James’ lips and back, nor the way he gazed back at her with such emotion.

“Only true love’s kiss can break a witch’s curse,” blushed Thor.

“I am not sure of the truth in that statement,” James muttered as his arm wrapped around Florence’s waist, “but I would very much like to test the theory.”

Florence flushed a deep red as he leaned upwards but at the last minute she turned her head to the seven pairs of eyes that stared intently at them.

“Turn around at least!” She exclaimed, and with some shoving and jostling, the seven dwarves turned their backs to at least give some semblance of privacy.

“Where were we, your Highness,” Florence smiled, turning back towards James.

“From what I heard that title belongs to you,” he replied, leaning ever closer.

“There are still some tales to tell,” she whispered against his mouth as their lips finally met in a sweet, soft kiss.

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thesugarclubs-blog · 8 months

Text

Talking to the Moon - Steve Harrington x OC

warnings: werewolf au, sheriff steve harrington, lost hiker oc, stranger to lovers, soft smut, 18+

word count: 16.9 k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1378982066-talking-to-the-moon-felicity

Masterlist

“Stupid cell phone,” Felicity shoved the useless piece of technology into her backpack after

figuring out that she had no service.

Huddled in the middle of dense Illinois forest she had somehow gotten herself lost. “So much for being a human compass,” she mumbled to no one but the birds and breeze. Before his passing her dad would take her on trips just like this for her birthday, camping and hiking was their time alone.

Felicity turned twenty-nine today, her dad forever sixty-three. But she had been determined to go camping, against her mother and brothers’ wishes she wasn’t going to let the death of her father stop her from their tradition. So she packed up her bags, loaded them in her shitty car and drove until she couldn’t see city buildings.

Now standing over her overstuffed backpack, with her dead phone and stubborn resolve to prove everyone wrong. She was fucking lost and it was getting dark out.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.” she uttered in a singsong-voice as she looked around, trying to figure out which way she came from, only to realize once again that she was clueless. She walked around a few times, thinking about what to do, only to come to the conclusion that she had no other choice than to walk around and find her way out. What did her dad always used to say?

Fuck around and find out.

And that was her plan. At least after she got lost and her phone gave up on her, that was.

Felicity grabbed her huge backpack and started to walk back the way she came from. The beautiful nature of Illinois made her somehow relax and calm, and all of a sudden, she wasn’t scared to find her way out anymore. The huge trees, the birds and the fresh air had a calming effect on her, which she was sure was due 99% because of the memories of her dad and their special day. She really missed him. Although she used to hike a lot, it was never the same as with her dad.

Golden rays of sunshine streamed through the minimal gaps in the trees as if to illuminate a pathway through the never ending nature-scape. Felicity tucked her dark hair behind her ears, letting out a sharp breath as she navigated. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered with a soft smile finding a home on her lips.

A small chill vibrated through her bones but she shook it off as the sounds of the forest echoed around her. She knew this forest. Her dad’s voice in the back of her mind told her everything would work out and she had to believe him.

Felicity pushed her way through branches keeping a careful eye on her footing as she made her way through the lit pathway. Every once in a while the overwhelming sense that she was being watched would creep up her spine. She chalked it up to being in the woods alone, animals she couldn't see hiding within the brush but once a golden ray would hit her skin, a wave of comfort would crash over her making her trek a little easier.

As the forest started to get thicker, she couldn't help but think that she was still lost.

"C'mon Dad, help a girl out." She said out loud, stumbling over a large rock. Felicity stopped to gather herself again. Her eyes flickered around her, glancing ahead when she saw a small plume of steady smoke floating into the sky. Her brows furrowed as she followed it down to what looked like a small shack sitting tucked back into the denser trees.

Felicity pursed her lips, a low whistle slipping from them as she tightened her hold on her backpack. She took a deep breath and chuckled, “Way to show off big guy,” shaking her head with a smile, “I knew you wouldn’t leave me hanging.”

She took her sign and braved forward following the smoke and a faint walkway marked off between the trees walking as fast as the trail could permit. Her shins were hurting and her breath was short as she reached the shack. The trail leading up to it was a small hill and she had already been walking for so long before she found it.

When she finally reached the couple of steps leading up to the door she stopped for a breath leaning onto the wooden railing. The door flew open and Felicity immediately looked up, the abrupt noise startling her.

Her chestnut eyes took in the man in front of her, seeming just as startled as herself to find her there. The breeze pushed through the golden brown waves of his hair as he stepped into the door frame with a shotgun resting over his chest. The fabric of his black t-shirt clung to the swell of his tense biceps and chest. He watched her with honey swirled brown eyes, flickers of concern as his lips pressed into a firm line.

“Uh hi—” Felicity stepped forward, stopping on a dime when his finger slipped against the trigger of his gun. “I don’t— uh I’m lost.” She threw both her hands up.

“You need to leave,” when he spoke Felicity felt herself inhale, holding her breath at the sound of his gruff voice. “You can’t be here.”

Felicity took a small step backwards, keeping her hands up in the air as her dark eyes flickered between the gun clutched in his hands and the small flash of amber in the man’s eyes, “I - I just need help, I promise. If you could just - point me in the direction of the road, I will leave you in peace,” she stammered. The man stood listening to her ramble with a furrowed brow before stepping forward and looking around quickly, his eyes casting up to the oranging sky. His fingers tapped against the gun, and he huffed deeply.

“Seriously, I just - I just need to find my way home,” she finally finished, slowly bringing her hands down to loop her fingers into the straps of her pack.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he swallowed thickly, “you’d never make it in time,” he muttered quietly.

Felicity's brows furrowed, "In time for what?" She asked not missing how his eyes skitted to the woods behind her before landing back on her own. Deep golden eyes bore into her before he tilted his head to the side.

"For nightfall." The man replied as if it was the most obvious thing and not whatever made his trigger finger twitch when her boots shifted in the dirt.

She pinned back her shoulders, knowing that the longer she stood here having this weird stand off with him the more daylight she was wasting. "Well, if you could just point me into the direction of the road, I'm a pretty fast walker. I can make it." She confirmed with a nod.

The man stared at her for a moment, his mouth dropping slightly open and eyes narrowing at her before he straightened, "you won't." He rasped with as much conviction as she felt needing to get home.

"If I keep standing here arguing with you, I definitely won't." Felicity snapped, "C'mon, you can do it. Just raise that hand, preferably the one not holding the gun and show me where to go." She took a quick mental note of the bear spray in her backpack, knowing it was too far away for easy access and silently cursing herself for shoving it in the bottom of her bag.

She didn't even know if bears existed in Illinois, she just felt safer with it.

The man relaxed his body or at least as much as his wide stiff stance would let him. "It's four miles in that direction," he said, lifting his empty hand and pointing in the opposite direction that she had been heading, "so no, you won't make it before nightfall no matter how quick you move."

Fuck. She thought, realizing that she had been heading the wrong way.

"Okay, well..." Felicity looked back at him, "do you have a phone? Mine died an hour ago."

"No service out here."

"Not even a SAT phone?" She asked, taking a baby step towards him and stopping as soon as his grip on his shotgun tightened. The plastic grip whining under his hold. His jaw worked as he shook his head and her brows furrowed again. "So you're just some man, living in the middle of the woods with no contact with the outside world? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it sweetheart."

She stepped forward again, keeping her eye on his finger as her boots crunched in the soil beneath her and he watched her cautiously, he was afraid of something. But what? She thought. Felicity watched with curious intentions as he shifted from his left to his right boot. He was just as nervous as she was, a cornered animal she had accidentally snuck up on.

“Who’s to say you aren’t playing tricks on me?” She asked, batting her lashes up at the sky, trying to spot a faint outline of the North Star. “Trying to spin me in circles on purpose.”

“I want you out of my woods,” he snapped like he meant it but flinched when he said it, like it hurt him to be mean to her.

“Your woods?” Felicity narrowed her eyes.

“The woods,” he corrected himself, shifting again back to his left. “I want you out of the woods, it’s not safe.”

“I’m used to the wilderness, I’m pretty sure I can handle it,” Felicity raised her chin with a bravado that she didn’t quite feel.

The man let out a scoff. “Sure you can, little miss wrong direction.” But then his expression changed once more, growing darker. “This wilderness is different.”

“In my experience one bit of woodland is the same as another. Look, if you’re not gonna help me I’ll leave you in peace. There’s gotta be a little clearing around here somewhere I can pitch up for the night. I’ll find the road tomorrow,” Felicity said decisively, waving her arm in the general direction the guy had indicated the road lay.

“No!” He almost growled, stepping towards her, making her jump, and she let out a yip of surprise.

Felicity’s hand landed on her chest as she attempted to calm her breath, keeping her dark eyes focused on the man in front of her. What was this guy’s deal? Sure, living in the woods on his own would make anyone a bit strange, but there was something more about him. She just couldn’t quite put her finger on what.

“I - I’m sorry,” he gruffed, shaking his head and casting his eyes down to the dirt, twirling his fingers back around the gun, “There’s just, there isn’t supposed to be people out here, it’s why - it’s why I come here. But now with you here, it - it’s complicated,” he mumbled.

“I’m just gonna go,” she raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest as she once again spun on her heel to start down the path he’d pointed towards.

Heavy footsteps behind her caught her attention, but she didn’t dare turn around this time. Or even pay them attention. She just had to get back to her car.

“No please,” calloused fingers brushed against her bare shoulder as he tried to stop her, “Look, I meant what I said, you’d never make it to your car before nightfall and it’s - it’s not safe in the woods at night. There are bears and - wolves up here, I can’t - I can’t let you go out there by yourself”

Felicity scoffed and turned to meet his eyes as a sunray caught the yellow in his iris’, “Thanks for the tip mountain man, but I think I’ll be okay,”

“I can’t let you go into the woods at night.” He said softly. Offering her no other option Felicity shrugged out of his hold.

“Good thing you aren’t the boss of me.” She snipped, continuing down the trail knowing that she sounded like a petulant child but she was tired of people second guessing her ability to take care of herself. It’s the exact reason she loved hiking with her father. He never questioned her, only guided her when she fell off the path and showed her how to take care of herself.

Her throat tightened as she swallowed down the emotions rising within her. The last thing she needed was for someone else assuming she was weak.

His boots crunched a long the gravel behind her, almost in sync with her own. Felicity made it half way down the hill before halting and spinning on her heels shooting him a glare. “Are you just going to follow me now?”

His brows furrowed placing his hands on his hips as he studied her for a moment, “I have soup.” The man practically blurted before dropping his head with a sigh, “I mean, if you—“ he stopped himself as his gaze flicked to hers as if he was wrestling with whatever he was about to offer. “It gets dangerous out here at night and cold.”

Felicity stared at him, “you’ve said that.”

“Are you always this difficult?” He barked.

She raised a brow and quipped, “are you?”

If his brows could furrow further down his eyes would be nowhere to be seen behind them. He shook his head and tapped his forefingers against his hips while licking his lips, eyes glued to the last view of the setting sun over the tree lines above her head. The expression of his face looked as if whatever thought that occupied his mind was determined to keep up the war inside.

He took a deep breath and pushed back the mess of brown hair that seemed to have gotten its own life now.

"Listen, I didn't mean to question the experience you have with the wilderness but all I want to say is that..." he trailed off for a second, taking a step closer while warm brown eyes bored into hers. "This isn't a place you want to get lost in, be alone in, for too long. It's not like...any other forest you've been to. Trust me, I know."

His voice now deeper and just above a whisper, like he was afraid of really uttering the words out loud. That brought her own thoughts to go spiraling. Then why are you living here all by yourself? Is this what happens when you cut off any contact with civilization?

She crossed her arms over her chest. "So what's up with this one? Got two headed turtles running around and biting your neck at night?"

Felicity could have sworn she saw the glimpse of a smile tugging at the corner at his lips, but it was gone in a blink of an eye when he once again casted his eyes over the tree line.

"Fuck." He muttered. "It's getting closer…"

“What?” Felicity blocked his view and his brows knitted together. “What is out there that you’re so scared of?” She asked, digging her boots deeper into the soil.

“Wolves,” he said, his eyes snapping to hers. She watched as his fingers itched at his side and his arms tensed around his gun.”Big ones,” he exaggerated.

“You’re repeating yourself again. I have bear spray,” she rolled her eyes.

“That’s not enough,” he said as she started to walk again. “Stop. Now.” He barked from behind her, “come back to the cabin. You can—“ he marched up to cut her off and put his hand out to stop her. “Eat and sleep.”

“Hell no,” Felicity laughed, completely over him and the whisplash that she was giving her.

“Go back now, or I’ll have to arrest you,” he said, his chest puffing out but his voice shaky.

“What are you, the forest police?” She laughed loudly and stepped back from him.

“I am the sheriff,” he confirmed, his hand digging into his back pocket. Handcuffs swung from his long fingers, the metal clinking together.

“Where’s your badge?” She asked, fear gripping her. The wolves and bears didn’t scare her as much as a weird man with a shotgun, handcuffs…. And soup.

“At the cabin,” he huffed, annoyed with her. A piece of his long hair fell against his forehead as he lowered his eyes to her. “Come back to the cabin, please.”

Felicity checked her phone once more, as if hoping that it had miraculously charged itself, but it was still dead and the picture of her and her dad on the lock screen was still out of her reach.

Fuck around and find out. OK Dad, she thought, let’s find out…

“What kind of soup?” She asked quietly, lifting her eyes to the stranger’s, whose eyebrows raised in obvious surprise.

“You know, I’m not quite sure. My friend packed it, it could be anything, but there’s enough for two?” He’d grown a little timid at her change of heart.

“Mystery soup with a strange hermit in the woods, never thought I’d get that one ticked off the old bucket list,” Felicity wise-cracked, trying to ease the tension a little more.

“That’s an oddly-specific bucket list,” the guy breathed and it almost sounded like a laugh.

Hiking her backpack further onto her shoulders she turned and trudged determinedly past the man back towards the cabin.

“Come on then Sherrif, soup’s not gonna eat itself,” she called over her shoulder, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth as she saw him jump into action.

“Steve,” he replied as he caught up to her, “I’m Steve.”

Felicity hummed, a playful smirk falling on her lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, “I think I like mountain man better,”

“We aren’t in the mountains, that makes no sense” he quipped back, and she would have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth twitch into an almost smile.

“Whatever you say, Steve the mountain man,” She smirked again, as they walked into the cabin.

It was as simple as cabins in the woods could get. Small open floor plan, with a small two seater couch and plaid blankets almost everywhere. A kitchen with just the necessities that looked like they’d been here since the 70s and a round dining table with one wooden chair. There was a wood stove that sat nestled in the corner and Felicity was almost surprised to find actual photos up on the wall. A group of smiling kids with their arms wrapped around each other, and in the middle of them stood who she believed was a younger Steve. He looked happy and playful, and the opposite of the man who stood before her now.

A gruff throat clear from beside her pulled her back to the present, “make yourself comfortable,” he muttered, moving past her into the kitchen.

Felicity shrugged out of her backpack and set it on the edge of the couch before doing one more spin to get a look at the cabin. She rolled her shoulders ignoring the dull ache in them from the weight of her overpacked sack as she made her way into the kitchen.

“Cute cabin,” she offered as he poured the contents of a clear container into a pot on the wood fired stove.

“It’s just a cabin.” He lifted one shoulder haphazardly as he stirred the soup.

She rolled her eyes leaning against a small countertop next to him. Her eyes roaming over his sharp yet ruggedly soft features, noticing the small constellation of freckles that dotted his cheek. Felicity resisted the urge to reach out and trace them with her fingertips as she let out a sigh, “so what’s in this mystery soup?” She asked leaning towards him to get a peek into the pot.

Felicity noticed the way Steve’s entire body tensed as she got closer to him, her shoulder gently brushing against his as she spied the contents. “Hmm,” she hummed, “looks like carrots, celery, are those potatoes?” Her nose scrunched as she looked up at him. Steve’s gaze was focused on hers, the dull kitchen lighting still made the gold flecks in his eyes dance as he stared.

After a moment she pulled back forcing him to blink a few times, “you don’t like potatoes?” He asked his voice somehow huskier than before while turning his focus back onto the stove.

“I mean they’re ok I guess,” she shrugged, “they’re just a little…uninspiring.”

Steve stiffened as if he was offended and slid an incredulous gaze back to her.

“I thought you were strange, creeping around my woods a million miles from the road and going in the wrong direction but now, to insult the noble potato? Now I know you’re a weirdo! I should call the Sheriff or something.”

“You are the…” Felicity began but paused. “Wait. You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”

“I would never,” Steve said, his voice gruff but there was a teasing hidden underneath that made the atmosphere just that little bit lighter. “Here,” he said, handing her the ladle, “stir the uninspiring soup while I get some bowls.”

Felicity took the ladle from his hands, his fingers brushing hers along the way, sending chills down her spine. She didn’t know why. It was almost too cliche, like something out of a movie. But she felt there was something different about him. His touch, even so little, was warm and soft, nothing like she expected after the cold first impression she got of him.

She stirred the soup a little, looking into the pot and watching the little pieces of potato swim around. She must’ve had a disgusted impression written all over her face because when Steve came back with the bowls, he chuckled. “You really don’t like potatoes, do you?” his tone was a little more serious and softer than before and Felicity responded by shaking her head.

“You wanna trade, then? I’m not a huge fan of carrots. You can have my carrots and I'll take your potatoes.”

“Deal.” she chuckled and Steve started to fill both bowls with the hot steaming soup.

“Mhm,” Felicity moaned. “It does smell good though.”

She watched Steve collecting all his carrots with his spoon and putting it into her bowl. She copied his motion and did the same with her potatoes.

“It tastes even better than it smells. It’s my favorite soup. I could eat it all day.” Steve started eating but Felicity just stared at him confused.

“I thought you don’t like carrots.” She frowned and saw how Steve's cheeks turned a bright pink as he kept eating.

Busted. She thought. But at the same time, she thought it was pretty cute that he offered to trade so that she had more of her soup.

A smile tugged on her lips, “It was great doing business with you, Sheriff.”

“Yeah you too, mystery mountain woman.” He looked up at her with his bright hazel eyes and she remembered that she had never given her name.

“Felicity,” she said, “my names-”

“Felicity, I like that.” He smiled, eating more soup.

Silence fell between them, giving her a chance to recenter herself and really take in what was around her. As Steve ate quietly, his hair falling in his face and eyes darting up to check on her every once in a while, she studied the sheriff.

The black t-shirt he wore left nothing to her imagination, tight around the swell of his biceps she noticed that his skin was far from perfect. Scattered about both arms were scars that she hadn’t seen before, they looked like faded paint splotches and matched the tight ring of faded white scars around his throat, now visible up close in the light. She looked at the picture again, it was hard to look at Steve without seeing that lack of warmth but something had stolen the light from his eyes.

“Who are they?” she pointed her spoon toward the photo, too curious to remain quiet.

“Family,” he huffed, not looking at what she pointed at. “Mike, Will, El, Dustin, Max and Lucas.” He named them across the photo left to right from memory.

“You look so happy,” she smiled, turning her attention back to him.

He stared up at her through heavy lashes, sadness maiming all the smooth features of his face. She could see the young man, beneath the burden and trauma, he had clearly suffered so much that he wasn’t healing from.

“Are you finished?” He extended his hand to her bowl and she nodded letting him take it from her. “Why were you up in the woods anyways? It’s an odd time of the year to hike.”

“It’s my birthday,” she leaned back in her chair and watched him as he quickly did the dishes in the small sink.

Steve’s golden gaze flicked over to her from the sink, “Birthday huh?”

Felicity smiled and nodded though she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She had been doing well trying to forget the biggest piece of her birthday puzzle that was missing. Her gaze moved from him to the photo of his family and she swallowed the creeping lump in her throat.

“Not one for celebrations?” He asked as he leaned against the counter and wiped his hands clean.

“I love celebrations.” She said softly.

He threw the dish towel over his shoulder and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he studied her, “someone who loves celebrations doesn’t spend their birthday in the woods alone.”

Felicity let out a heavy breath, “man nothing gets by you does it?” She chuckled gently.

Steve shook his head, “Not usually.”

She watched the corner of his mouth quirk up as he watched her. Felicity opened her mouth to tell him everything but it fell closed. She couldn’t just spew out her feelings to this man. She also knew once that faucet was turned on she wouldn’t be able to turn it off.

“Lay it on me mountain woman,” he urged gently, crossing one leg over the other as he made himself comfortable.

She sighed, “Just remember you asked,” Felicity let out a small laugh that trailed off, “My dad and I used to go hiking all the time, especially on my birthday.”

His head tilted to the side, “used to?”

Felicity flashed him a weak smile, “He passed not too long ago.”

Steve hummed, and nodded once, pulling his lips into a thin line, “I’m sorry, that’s tough”

With a small shrug, she nodded in response, “Yeah but you know, working through the five stages of grief and all that fun stuff. I had hoped being back here would help and for a little there it actually did, but I think my mom and brother’s voices in the back of my head telling me not to come threw me off, and well, now I’m here,” she chuckled lightly again.

“Now you’re here,” he repeated, keeping his gaze fixed on her.

“Okay, well, that was my tragic backstory,” Felicity said quickly, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows at him, “your turn, Sheriff Steve”

“Oh we don’t have to get into that,” he chuckled nervously, turning around to look out the little window that sat above the sink.

“Oh come on,” she protested, “the random girl you found stumbling through the woods just spilled about her life, it’s only fair. Let’s just do family! You said those kids were family, but what about your actual family? Where are they?”

The man cleared his throat and tapped his fingers against the porcelain sink, “Just because they’re blood, doesn’t mean they’re family,” he mumbled, “And I don’t know where they are. South America somewhere I think… My parents haven’t been back here in years. They used to come home every once in a while for Christmas, but one year they just stopped. That’s kind of why I always made sure those kids,” He turned slowly, and gestured towards the photo, “always had someone.”

“And who took care of you?” Felicity chewed on her lip.

She watched his eyes as they bounced around the cabin trying to figure out the answer to her question. He rubbed a hand roughly over his nose and nodded as he contained his feelings, “there were people here and there, but eventually everyone leaves when things get hard and scary you know?”

“I do.” She probably understood too well what it felt like when people ran away. Her ex had turned tail the second things got hard with her dad, citing she wasn’t spending enough time with him.

“I just became the guy.” He shrugged. “The it’s gotta be me guy. No one takes care of that guy.”

She was about to open her mouth when he pushed away from the sink, his eyes growing wide as he looked at the sky outside. “Listen,” he put his hands on his hips, turning to her, “I need you to stay here. Can you do that?”

“Where are you going?”

His change in demeanor worried her, he ran a hand through his hair, pointing it out in her direction asking her again. “Can you do that Felicity?”

He mumbled something under his breath and paced to the back corner of the cabin, unlatched a cabinet against the wall.

"Steve," She stood up, watching as he shrugged into an old green army jacket with patches that had definitely seen better days. "You can't just be cryptic and tell me to stay put when clearly something is wrong."

Felicity's eyes widened when he pulled out a set of metal chains and a small handgun from the cabinet. He threw the heavy chains over his shoulder like they weighed nothing before checking the gun over once and then twice. Steve lifted his gaze to hers, ignoring her previous comment and flipped the gun in his hand, holding it out to her. "Once I go out that door, no matter what you hear or what you may see," he paused, tilting his head to catch her gaze currently glued to the weapon.

She felt the warmth of his index finger hook under her chin as he lifted her gaze to his, "Listen to me Felicity," amber eyes flickered between her own, "No matter what you may hear or see, you don't go outside. Okay?"

Her brows furrowed as worry dripped over her entire body and her bones filled with an uneasiness. She wasn't sure what urged her to nod her head in a response as he held the gun closer to her.

"Promise me." Steve's voice had dropped into a whisper, his thumb resting on the tip of her chin. "I know it goes against every stubborn bone in your body you've shown me today, but I need you to say it."

She hated everything about this. His warnings from earlier circled her mind like cruel vultures preying on her nerves. Felicity lifted her hand, her fingers wrapping around the grip of the gun. "Okay, I promise."

Steve tapped his knuckle twice on the tip of her chin gently before dropping both hands to his sides and clenching them into fists. The softness in his eyes was replaced with something else as he stepped back from her and made his way to the door leaving her standing in the middle of the room with only her racing thoughts and a handgun that resembled a water gun her brother had when they were kids. Only this was heavier and definitely not filled with water.

"Steve?" She blurted just as he yanked open the door. He stopped and turned back to her, "I want the truth when you get back. Why are these woods so dangerous to you?"

He stared at her for a moment, the metal door knob whining under his grip but instead of an answer Steve turned, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud that echoed against the log walls.

Felicity tapped her hands nervously against her jeans, spinning around in a circle to really do inventory on where Steve had left her…trapped her to be more exact. She walked around the cabin, bee-lining for the cabinet that he had pulled the chains from hoping not to find anything else that might prove her diluted theories that he was a serial killer.

Inside the massive cabinet was nothing more than another gun, “perfect,” she grabbed the barrel, setting it against the counter at her feet. Before closing it she noticed a ratty torn picture hanging from the door. It looked like it had been folded a thousand times and possibly gone through the washing machine. But it was of Steve and some other man, arms around each other laughing as they squinted to see into the sun. They looked young but not the same as the other photo, this was taken more recently. His hair was longer than it was now but the smile was genuine. She picked it up, twirling it in her fingers to read what was written on the back.

Remember who you are and never let anyone diminish that Steve Harrington light. Xx Ed

It suddenly felt like she was invading something really personal. Something close to heart and well hidden from anyone but himself although he was lonely up here, a past and emotions that are held inside those mysterious amber eyes to look back too. She flipped over the photo to skim her eyes over the two boys again. It all felt so relatable to her, having a picture of herself and dad showing off their big grins on their first hiking trip together under her pillow. A picture that felt like it held and never stopped to live through a thousand shared memories.

She thought of the picture on the wall, of the people he called family. It seemed like this Ed really meant something to Steve with the sparkle of life and wholeness almost breaking through his smile and eyes.

Who was this man before the woods took him over?

A sudden loud bang from outside made her jump up straight and almost trip over her own feet, feeling as if her heart almost broke through her rib cage from how close it sounded to be. In a panic she quickly tucked the photo in the back pocket of her pants and her instincts told her to reach for the handgun she didn't even know why she needed.

"Steve? What's going on out there?" Her voice trembled. The noise scared her off pretty good and she had no idea where the hell Steve went off to.

No answers, just the sound of her heavy breathing and fingers nervously tapping against the gun resting against her side. Should she go outside? Steve was pretty clear that she couldn't leave the house for her own safety no matter what...but what if something happened to him? What if-

Something moved in the forest, leaves and branches crushing under a heavy weight. Felicity was almost about to reach for the door when all of the hairs on her body shot straight up. Like a warning, along with Steve's echoing in her mind.

It was like something in one of the scary movies she’d watched with her Dad, when the main character knows they shouldn’t do something but they do it anyway. Just like them Felicity found herself being drawn inexorably towards the cabin door. With her arms prickled with goosebumps and a thrill of tension running down her spine she reached out and gripped the door handle. She jumped when she heard a thud just on the other side of the door, which now felt ridiculously flimsy to her. Pressing her ear against the wood there was a snuffling huff and a hint of a growl. Felicity swallowed thickly.

“Steve?” She half-whispered but there was no answer, just another grumbling huff.

Felicity closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath, muttering words of encouragement to herself. She silently counted to three in her head, making extra sure she got to the right number by adding in two-and-a-half, and then two-and-three-quarters. When she got to three she gulped and threw the door open wide, raising the gun at the same time.

There was nothing there. Except…

She swore something had darted into the treeline. Something big.

The full moon above illuminated the tops of the tall fir trees and spilled through the gaps creating spots of light rippling deep into the forest. If the pounding of her heart wasn’t screaming at her to head back inside she might have taken a moment to appreciate how beautiful everything looked.

A loud crunch from behind the trees snapped her gaze in each direction as she tried to figure out where it came from.

“Steve?” Felicity called a bit louder, not daring to set foot off the small wooden porch as she squinted into the darkness.

There it was again. Something big moving in the darkness, avoiding the moonbeams and lurking. A shiver ran down her spin and the feeling of someone… something, watching her crept across her skin like goosebumps.

She let out a short breath, and twisted her fingers around the gun like she’d seen Steve do earlier when she had first shown up. She was starting to understand why he was so on edge.

“Okay, we’re okay, the mountain man I was slightly counting on has disappeared, and I might be getting stalked by a bear, but it’s okay,” Felicity mumbled to herself, attempting to quiet the shake in her voice.

Felicity gnawed on her bottom lip debating on whether or not to go back inside and even though every one of her nerves stood on end she took a tiny step towards the edge of the porch. As if in warning another loud snap of a branch came echoing at her through the trees forcing her to stop.

“Warning received,” she muttered softly. “Steve?” She hollered a little louder this time hoping that he’d answer back, “if this is some sort of sick joke on the lost girl, you’ve made your point! It’s not funny!”

Another low growl came from the woods directly in front of her. Her eyes shooting to the spot. She narrowed them slightly, swearing that a pair of golden eyes were staring back at her and whatever was stalking her was still, sticking to the shadows.

"What the hell." Both hands now trembling around the gun and her whole body paralyzed.

It felt like those eyes bored right into her soul, feeding through the horror seeping through her veins and squeezing the last squeaky breath out of her lungs. She closed her eyes for a brief second with her heartbeats drumming in her ears, praying and hoping this was all actually just a wicked dream because she'd fallen somewhere in the house and hit her head damn hard.

A scratching sound against something inside the forest made her pop her eyes open, golden glowing eyes lowered the ground. But this time, not only did she catch sight of the bright yellow orbs that made her feel like a prey surrounded by several predators, something else shined against the moonlight. It dangled and clanged with every small movement from the thing in front.

The chains that Steve had taken were wrapped around and tangled into the fur of the massive animal. Slumping forward out of the forest as she stepped back on a shaky foot, her heel hitting the bottom step of the porch. Each massive step the animal took as it stalked from between the trees sent Felicity’s rapidly beating heart further up into her throat. The moonlight streaked through the fur, dusty brown shades mixed with long golden waves that seemed to glimmer with each swing of the wolf's giant body.

Felicity took another step back, nearly tripping up the step as she gripped the banister and balanced herself. Both eyes are still on the wolf. Where the hell had Steve gone? She swallowed tightly as it stepped forward again, lowering his snarling maw to the grass as it inhaled her scent. The chains clanged together sending an eerie tone through the silent, dark forest that chilled Felicity to the core.

Felicity felt the need to run, sweat marking her forehead as the wolf came closer and closer. With every step she took backwards, her heart beat faster.

“Steve?” She wanted to scream but it only came out as a whisper. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run, to scream, but it was like she was frozen in place, the tiny steps she took back the only motions she could handle right now. She looked back for a second to see the door being only a couple of inches away when the wolf suddenly started to rise to his full height, making itself look bigger than before as it let out a deafening howl into the darkness.

Before she could even react, the wolf started to pick up its pace towards her.

Stumbling up the couple stairs to the porch, Felicity knew at that point her effort wasn’t going to mean much. She tried to spin and grab the door but her feet got caught beneath her and she tumbled forward, pushing open the cabin door with her body as she fell into the living room. The brown wolf leaped up the stairs and barely touched the wooden porch before he was snarling, standing almost on top of her. Felicity couldn’t bring herself to scream or speak, the scene in front of her almost hard to believe.

A large paw was placed next to her ribs, a claw slicing into the skin of her bicep as it did so. She cried out and jerked her arm while trying her best to sink into the floor away from its dripping teeth. Her dark eyes opened to meet the wolf’s amber ones, just as they softened and flickered between Felicity’s face and the bloody cut down her arm. With a heavy huff and one shake of its head the giant wolf took a few steps backwards before turning around and taking off quickly back into the woods. She stayed laying on the floor staring out at tall trees, with only the sound of her pounding heart left around her. There was so much in her mind that Felicity couldn’t make sense of until a piercing howl from the woods brought her back to reality and the growing, stinging pain now radiating from her arm.

She scrambled backwards against the wooden floors, kicking the door closed with her boot before sitting up. Glancing down at the gash now dripping blood down her forearm she winced, poking at the red and angry skin around it. Another howl echoed through the woods outside and though it sounded distant, it felt as if it reverberated through her bones.

Felicity forced herself up off the floor. The uneasiness in her stomach growing as she glanced around the room. If the wolf decided to come back she knew it was big enough to break down the door. Her eyes landed on the worn out couch before flicking to the door. Making her decision, she made quick work of sliding the couch in front of the door, wincing as the tear in her arm stung with the weight of the sofa. Once in place she stepped back, finally taking a breath.

Her arm throbbed, stung and felt heavy against her side as she looked down at it again. "That's definitely not good." Felicity muttered, "I wonder if Mountain Man has a first aid kit."

She wasn't sure why she was talking to herself, but it felt comforting in the moment. Though the idea that Steve was still out there with whatever that creature was made her heart clench. She made her way to the small bathroom, flipping open cupboards until she found what she was looking for. "Bingo." Felicity pulled the first aid out from its place under the sink and tossed it on the counter with a sigh.

Opening it, another relieved sigh fell from her lips when she found a bottle of alcohol, gauze and bandage as her savior. She winced just thinking about the pain that would come from cleaning the wound, but she knew better than to let it be, especially when a wild animal had caused her arm to be dripping in blood.

She quickly drenched a towel with warm water and dabbed the irritated skin gently to get rid of the dirt before popping up the lid on the alcohol bottle, pouring out some on a couple of cotton pads she found at the bottom of the kit and finished cleaning it carefully. A few hisses and groans fell from her lips but a couple of deep breaths helped her get through the worst of the stinging pain. Finally wrapping the bandage around the gauze securing the wound, she sat down with a huff on the toilet seat.

Felicity looked out to the living area from the bathroom, her mind racing through hundreds of different thoughts of what the hell she was supposed to do know. She guessed she was safe in here until Steve came back...oh god what if he doesn't come back?

"Get it together girl... the door is locked and secured along with the windows. The wolf can’t come ins-"

Her eyes snapped to the window just over the couch in the living room, long and sharp claws slowly dragged against the glass making a chill-sending screech pierce through her ears. The howl made her jump to her feet with her heart in her throat, frantically looking for something to defend herself with if needed.

Shit.

She realized she'd dropped one of Steve's guns outside when the attack happened since she didn't come back inside with it. Hopefully, the second she'd found was still where she'd left it. With one big breath of courage she ran to the kitchen, finding it on the floor and quickly picked it up with a shaky finger ready on the trigger.

The wounded flesh seemed to burn beneath the bandages as she raised her arm, trembling from the weight of the gun. She tried desperately to control her ragged breathing but she was dizzy and her eyes flickered out of focus every time she inhaled deeply.

Another snapping twig redirected her attention to the back of the cottage where the trees seemed to lead into nothing but a pitch black void. She swallowed tightly, shifting her stance in a feeble attempt to stay balanced.

“Fuck,” she swore, stumbling a step and crashing into the nearby wall with her shoulder. She slid down against the old wood, scraping her back and curling her knees to her chest. She fought hard to keep her eyes open but eventually the darkness was too heavy and pushed her backward into a sleep.

A loud bang from the front door echoed through her, followed by another and another. A rhythmic pattern that pulled her from sleep onto shaky feet. She screamed, forgetting about her arm as she used it to push from the ground only to crumble back against the floor in a pile.

The sun crept in through the dirty windows, warming her cheeks as she tried again. Sliding to her knees and finally her feet. She gripped the gun so tight her knuckles were void of color as she clicked the lock of the cabin. She peered out into the woods, scanning quickly for any sign of the wolf. Her eyes only dropped when a painful moan drifted up from the porch beneath her. She swung the door open to find Steve, soaked in blood and tattered clothes, leaned against the door frame clutching his ribcage barely breathing.

“Oh god,” she dropped to her knees beside him.

Her eyes hurt with how quickly they stared around his battered body, taking a silent inventory of every scrape, cut and bruise that she could see. “What the hell happened?” She hissed.

Steve’s golden eyes peered over at her before flicking down to the bandage on her arm. His eyes fell closed, “I’m sorry.” He whispered, “shit,” a small hiss left his lips as he shifted against the door.

Her brows furrowed, confused on why he was apologizing to her. She hovered her hand over his arm, afraid to touch him but knowing she needed to get him inside. “Steve, you have to get inside. Can—” her eyes met his again as the morning light filtered onto the porch. The flecks of gold in his eyes felt so familiar as if she hadn’t seen them yesterday but they glowed… just like… she shook her head ignoring the creeping feeling that the pained eyes staring at her now were the same from last night. It’s not possible. “Can you stand?” She asked softly.

He nodded as he took a deep breath, clutching harder onto the door frame with a bloody hand as a support to lift himself up. For a brief second she swore she saw his nails...longer before she blinked away the possible imagined picture in front. She also caught a glimpse of blood under his nails before he curled his fingers against the wood.

Let it go. It's just all in your head, just try and help him, she told herself.

He only managed to stand half upright before his body caved in and his knees fell to the floor with a loud thud. A deep groan fell from his lips and he hissed as he almost collapsed with Felicity if she hadn't caught him in her arms. Her wounded arm throbbed with pain but Steve's state was a lot worse and at the moment he couldn't even get inside on his own.

She needed to let her pain aside at the moment to help with his own.

His forehead rested against her shoulder and she could feel his breathing getting heavier and heavier, his whole body sagging against her hold. An aching feeling made an appearance in her chest, almost replacing the stinging feeling in her arm. She started to really get worried now from how weak he seemed to get the longer they waited. What the hell had he been through? She gently tapped against his side, making him slowly lift his head to reveal those warm and tender amber eyes behind golden, dirty locks.

“Hey Steve...it's okay, I'm gonna help you inside to the couch. Just put your arm around my shoulder and we'll do this together. Okay?”

He swallowed thickly as he looked down to her arm. "B-but I hu- you're hurt..."

“And bandaged,” Felicity choked out trying to balance his weight. Together they stumbled to the couch where Steve collapsed in a ball. He was down to a shabby pair of shorts that had been left unbuttoned, roughly thrown on to protect his modesty and half of the dark t-shirt he had left in.

Felicity moved without hesitation trying to keep her wits about her as she collected water, rags from the sink and tucked them against her body with a rough hiss. She gripped them with her sore arm as she grabbed the first aid kit that had been strewn in a bloody mess on the floor from the night before.

She dropped to her knees beside the couch and ripped the cap from the water bottle as she searched out for a pair of scissors to cut him free of the tattered shirt.

“I can do it,” Steve groaned, trying to sit up.

Felicity pushed his hand away as she continued to work. “Felicity I can do it,” he protested again. “Enough, stop!” He pushed her away harder this time causing her to lose her balance.

She held the scissors up, her tone sharp and serious as she said, “let me take care of you.”

Hurt flashed across his honey eyes but he leaned back against the couch with another staggered painful breath.

She dropped her hand with a sigh before making quick work of removing his shirt. Every once in a while her gaze would flicker to his face, eyes closed, brows furrowed in pain. Felicity wanted to know what happened, how he was completely fine when he left and now, he looked like he went ten rounds with whatever had been lurking in the woods.

When she dipped a rag into the water and wrung it out, her eyes flickered to him. His eyes were open watching her carefully.

“I’m gonna start here,” she said gently nodding to a series of scrapes along his abdomen. Felicity waited until he gave her a curt nod before she rested the rag against his skin and softly swiped away at the dirt and dried blood.

His abs flexed from her movement with the rag against the sensitive skin and he gripped the edge of the couch hard as to control the pain from coming out in more than what his body showed her, knuckles turning all white and veins popping with the pressure. She tried to be as gentle as she could but with all the dried dirt and blood...it seemed like some of it had been there for hours. His eyes never left hers despite how hard it seemed to make them stay open, according to her, looking like he's been fighting for his life with the devil himself.

She cleared her throat as she wrung out the bloodied rag, pouring more water on it before focusing on a small, fleshy wound clean against his side. A few curses fell from his lips as she faded out slowly while getting lost in her thoughts. She wanted answers. Not more questions. She didn't even know how to explain to herself what had happened to *her* these past hours.

"Want to tell me what happened out there? Where you were exactly?"

When he didn't answer right away she looked up at him. His eyes bore right into her and a mixture of sorrow and rage swarmed in his eyes before looking over her head. As if she didn't deserve a proper answer and it only made a fuming feeling inside her come to life and a stinging feeling collect behind her eyes. She thought she would die, she thought she wouldn't be able to see home again...and all while wondering where he'd left off to, leaving her all alone in a place she felt trapped and abandoned in.

Felicity shook her head, the emotions now catching up on her from the traumatic event and she slammed the wet rag against the wooden floor. "Damn it Steve! Where the hell did you go?! Do you know how scared I was seeing that thing out there and having no damn clue what I even saw and wondering if you really did leave me to die and now you're back looking like something from a horror movie..." She took a deep breath, wiping away the tears she didn’t have the strength to hold back.

A shaky inhale interrupted the silence. "I- I'm sorry...but- damn...you wouldn't under-"

"Don't treat me like a damn kid when I'm a grown woman!" She was yelling right at his face now and she slammed her hand hard down onto the floor, completely ignoring his hurtful look and the wave of pain in her arm it had caused. "If I'm going to help you I want you to be honest with me. I've been through hell. What. Is. Going. On. Out. There, please Steve."

“I never meant to hurt you,” his fingertips brushed the pool of blood that seeped through her bandage. Her eyes casted downward nervously as she tried to make sense of it.

“You didn’t,” she whispered, “it was—”

“Me,” he huffed, forcing his body upward on the couch until he was sitting, “it was me.”

Felicity slid backward away from him, her hands on the cold floor, eyes trained on Steve. The golden eyes that flickered from haze to rage with the blink of an eye, the soft, terrifying fur that bared striking resemblance to his hair. Now matted with blood and stuck to his neck and forehead.

Her father had spoken many times about skinwalkers. About the dangers of them but she had thought him insane for believing such tall tales.

“How?” The word dripped from her without consent. Her mind needed answers even as the rest of her body shut down in fear.

“Hawkins is a strange town,” Steve licked his lip and grunted as he swung his legs to the floor. “It’s hard to explain and even if I did, would you care? I can’t change what I am, but I can get you home. The sun is up, you can go. There’s a map,” he hissed trying to stand, “in the drawer. Follow it west to town, go to the station. Ask for Buckley. She’ll get you back to your car.”

“No,” Felicity said.

“No?” Steve chuckled, pain vibrating through him but his lip curled into a smile. “You’re the most bullheaded woman I’ve ever met.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she sighed. “You need a bath, you smell like a dog.”

“Was that a joke?” Steve’s brows knitted together as his laughter filled the tiny cabin.

“It was the truth,” Felicity swallowed tightly, “I expect the same in return.”

Huffing out a breath, Steve shook his head, glancing his eyes around his cabin, looking anywhere but the girl beside him, “This isn’t your problem Felicity, I can’t - I can’t drag you into this…” he whispered

“I hate to break it to you Steve, but I’m in it now,” she replied, holding out her hands, “let’s get you cleaned up, come on,” Felicity urged. Hesitantly, Steve placed his hands in Felicity’s, wincing in pain as she tucked his arm around her shoulder. The pair slowly started making their way over to the small bathroom. Felicity’s mind was still reeling about the events of the night, and the man beside her, but for some reason, cleaning him up and making sure he was okay seemed more important in her mind than anything.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve breathed, slumping against the wall outside the bathroom door, “I just need to - I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay, you rest here for a sec, I’m going to get the bath started okay?” Her fingertips trailed lightly over his shoulder and arm as she gently let him lean against the wall on his own. Felicity’s dark eyes trailed over him, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she took in a small breath. “Don’t do that,” he rasped, leaning his head back against the wood as his amber eyes met hers. “Do what?”

“Feel bad for me…”

Felicity scoffed softly, “I don’t feel bad for you Steve…” she rolled her eyes when he raised a brow, “I’m—I’m confused how it’s even possible. I have a million questions but I know you won’t answer them. So I’m holding out on asking and instead making sure you don’t die before you help me get back to my car.”

She exhaled, finishing off her rant as he stared at her. Steve lifted his hand to reach for her, a gesture that surprised Felicity as his fingers brushed her own. “I can’t tell you everything.” He rasped, “and I’m not gonna die.”

Again she rolled her eyes, tired of secrets, tired of feeling underestimated on what she could or couldn’t handle. Felicity attempted to turn to move into the bathroom when his fingers caught her wrist, tugging her back to him. Her hands hit his shoulders and he let out a soft grunt at the thump her body made against his but his eyes roamed her face, landing squarely on her lips before flicking to her eyes. “You don’t have to help me.”

“And you don’t have to help me.” She whispered almost breathlessly, “call it insurance.”

Her cheeks flushed at the contact, his unusually warm skin burning underneath her touch and his hands skimmed her sides holding himself steady against her.

His tongue rolled over his bottom lip, “insurance.”

Felicity nodded, doing everything she could to ignore the swarm of butterflies taking over her belly. Her eyes flit from his own to his lips and back as she tried to keep her breathing steady and will her heartbeat to slow down under his grip. The tip of his fingers dug lightly into her skin as they held each other’s gazes. Their bodies pulled at each other like magnets just at the brink of collision. She could just feel the way their lips called to each other to close the sliver of distance left between them.

“I should get that water going for you,” she breathed between them, her hands traveling slowly down his arms stopping at his hands, giving them a soft squeeze before reluctantly pulling them away from her hips.

Felicity turned slowly, taking the two short steps towards the bath before she sat on the edge and turned the knobs until she found the perfect temperature and plugged the drain to let it fill. She lifted her gaze to where he stood, leaning against the wall watching her every move. Taking a deep breath she stood and extended her hands to him.

“Come on Sheriff Mountain Wolf-Man,” she encouraged, her lips curling upwards a touch. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Steve took her hand, hobbling toward the bath pausing only in concern for undressing, “spin,” he huffed.

“Now you're shy?” Felicity laughed.

“I don’t make a habit of undressing in front of women on the first date,” he groaned, working at the button with a shaky hand.

“This is a horrible first date.” She shook her head.

“I’ve had worse,” he laughed.

Usually she would oblige in one's request for modesty but something deep in her chest told her to help him regardless of the situation. So she didn’t turn, instead she stepped forward and brushed his fingers out of her way as she helped remove the shorts he was wearing. He turned his face away from her, his jaw tight as he stepped free of the fabric.

“Slow,” she warned as he lifted one strong thigh over the tub losing his balance. He gave her a soft chuckle in recognition before using her for support to step fully into the tub. Felicity lowered with him, tucking herself against his side and chest until he emerged in the warm water. “Is that okay?” She asked.

“It’s perfect,” he leaned back, keeping one of his knees bent to cover himself and sunk down into the warm water.

Felicity smiled, watching the tense muscles in his shoulders visibly relax as the warm water soothed his skin. His eyes found hers and her cheeks flushed, realizing she'd been just standing there staring at him. She cleared her throat and turned away, moving to check the cupboard for another rag.

"Why didn't you stay inside?" His voice was soft and she could hear the exhaustion in it as she found what she was looking for. Felicity turned to him and shrugged.

"I was worried."

He lifted his head for a moment, studying her as she sat down on the edge of the tub making sure to keep her eyes focused on his wounds and above the water. "About me?"

Her eyes met his and she was sure there was a slight crack in his voice when he asked. She got the feeling that he wasn't used to having someone worry about him and Felicity wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he wasn't used to it or that he thought he didn't have anyone that did.

Either way she wasn't expecting the ache in her chest at the idea.

"Steve," she breathed, dipping the rag into the water and wringing it out, "I didn't know what was happening out there. I didn't know where you were and the things I heard out there, I couldn't just leave you."

He lifted his hand from the water moving to reach for the rag but instead his hand wrapped around her wrist, holding her hand just above his skin. His grip was firm, but it wasn't hurting her and it was more of a warning. One that she deep down wanted to ignore.

"I would have been fine," he said softly, shaking his head.

Felicity moved against his grip and pressed her palm to his chest, the rag still within her fingers but she was done with his protests. "And you showed up this morning half dead, you're lucky these aren't worse."

"Why are you helping me Felicity?"

Her gaze met his, amber eyes glossy under the bathroom glow. She rested her free hand on his cheek, swiping her thumb over a patch of dirt that marked his skin.

"Because I get the feeling that you could use someone to take care of you for once." She wasn't expecting the emotion that filled her words but something pulled her here yesterday, something kept her here overnight instead of booking it at her first chance and even though she should be terrified of what he admitted to her, Felicity wasn't.

She saw Steve swallow down whatever he wanted to say. The pain in his eyes wasn’t due to all the cuts and bruises he collected over night. It was a different pain, something that went way deeper.

Steve turned his head to the side again, avoiding her gaze as she slowly washed his chest with the cloth, trying not to hurt him some more while she cleaned all the blood that smeared his hairy chest.

“It’s not easy, you know?” He looked at the white and blue tiles of his bathroom, trying not to look at her.

Felicity just nodded, not wanting to say anything to interrupt him when he finally opened up to her. A little, at least.

“I didn’t want all of this to happen. I-” he choked on his own words. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got time, you know?” She tried to lighten up the mood a little with a silent chuckle but she didn’t get a reaction out of him as he just stared at the wall next to him.

Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if trying to start but not knowing how. Putting the cloth to one side, Felicity reached out and covered his hand with hers and the gentle weight of it seemed to ground him slightly. He dared a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and then took a deep breath, steeling himself before finally speaking.

“This won’t sound real but I swear it’s all true,” he began. “I was…we were…just kids when it all started. We uncovered things that a child should never have seen. Monsters from another world, a parallel world. We called it the Upside Down. Seems a stupid name now.”

He made a noise that was half laugh, half sob and Felicity squeezed his hand gently. Turning it over he absentmindedly threaded his fingers through hers as he stared unseeing at their joined hands.

“There were rips, gaps, I dunno what you’d call them really, between the Upside Down and here. Hawkins was the centre of it all. We fought hard, lost people along the way, but we finally got all the rips closed.”

His other hand joined their linked ones and he fidgeted with her fingers. Felicity could feel his agitation rise with every heartbeat.

“It’s ok Steve, really. You don’t have to…” she began but he cut her off, as if now he’d started he couldn’t stop the story from pouring out.

“We thought we’d closed them all,” he huffed, shaking his head. “A few years later, when I was still just a police officer, I was sent to investigate a disturbance in the woods, not far from here. As soon as I saw the twisted tree with the tear right down the middle I should have booked it out of there, but I didn’t.”

He’d begun stroking his hand up and down her forearm, soothing his anxiety with the soft touch of her skin. Felicity’s heart was breaking for him, the despair on his face made her want to reach out and hold him but she knew he needed to finish.

“I was gonna call for back-up, Dustin, or maybe even Byers, but before I could something launched itself out of the tree and sank its teeth into my side.”

Felicity cast her eyes once more over the planes of his chest and caught sight of what could be faded teeth marks below his left ribs.

“I fought it off and managed to get a couple of rounds into it but the next month, when the full moon rose, something happened…”

He shook his head as he adjusted slightly in the tub, the sound of the water splashing against the sides filling the silence. She could see that he fought with himself now with being so close to tell the whole story. To wanting to let it all go but fearing to finish off whatever was pulling him in both directions in his own mind.

The softest and warmest pair of brown eyes glanced back again at her over a coated layer of tears. One tear slipped free to fall down over a scraped cheek, holding one of many painful memories. It felt like Felicity’s heart was tugged right out of her chest then. He just shrank at that point, turning so small and vulnerable but for her to fully understand him and see the truth. She could understand the many hidden emotions crawling out of him at that point, the pain and suffocating feeling of being locked up inside for too long.

“I thought I could handle it…to not become a monster…I thought I could build myself a future after all the shit even though it wouldn’t be with the people I wanted to share it with…” A sob escaped his lips, shaking as he squeezed harder around her hand.

Felicity’s mind raced with the images of the broken Steve in front along with the previous events, the pieces all forcing itself to come together despite how unrealistic it seemed to be. After all, these things only happened in books and movies, but…

The growls.

The feeling of looking at something familiar as goosebumps littered her skin.

She did recognize those chains.

“You aren’t a monster,” she said softly, reaching over to brush his jaw so he would look at her again. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I did,” his eyes flickered to her bandage.

“That’s nothing but a cool scar,” she smiled at him, “barely hurts anymore.”

“Felicity,” he chewed on his lip, “I don’t know anything about this…disease. What if-” he stopped and looked away from her with tears in his eyes.

“Do you know why I came out here Steve?” She said in an attempt to distract him from the spiral she could see him sinking into.

“Your dad,” he said.

“Yes but it started because it was the only place I ever felt alive, the woods. Dad and I would go camping to reset, and take a beat away from the city. The woods were always my home and call me crazy but for me, if something like that does happen, I’m not afraid of it.” She said with confidence, earning a shocked look.

“You should be,” he replied, “I almost killed you, and god knows what else I did manage to kill last night. It’s not fun, it's a curse.”

“I have been alone for months and it brought me to you,” she whispered, their faces closer than before. She could count the flecks of gold that sparkled in his brown iris’. “It can’t be a curse.”

A short shaky breath left his lips as his amber eyes glanced down to find their entwined fingers before finding her face once more, tracing her features. Felicity could tell that there was something on his mind that he didn’t want to say. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek and as his eyes softened, the corner of his lips twitched upwards into the resemblance of a smile. “Felicity,” Steve finally whispered, bringing his free hand out of the water and brushing the backs of his fingers lightly across her cheek. Shaking her head, Felicity rubbed the tips of their noses together and hummed, “I know what you're going to say,” she whispered back, “but I’m not going anywhere. Let someone be on your side, sweet boy, we can figure it out together, if you’ll let me.”

Another tear slipped down his still dirty cheek, and as he tried to choke down another sob, Steve leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to hers. The tension released from his shoulders as his free hand found purchase on the side of her neck, tangling into the short hairs at the base.

A swarm of butterflies took over her senses and instinctively Felicity leaned in to deepen the gentle kiss. She could hear her mother screaming at her now for kissing a random man in the woods after the night they’d had, but something about Steve brought a sense of comfort to everything. She’d come to the woods to try and reconnect with herself, and bring some sense of safety and normalcy to her life after the passing of her father, but instead she’d found Steve. Everything from the day before had led her to Steve.

“I’m sorry, I don’t -” Steve started, shaking his head as he went to pull back. Felicity pushed a tangled piece of brown hair off his forehead as she tilted her head to catch his gaze, “Hey, no,” she shushed him, catching his chin with two of her fingers and bringing his face back to hers, “I felt it too,” she assured him and placed another gentle kiss on his lips.

She felt the way his lips curved into a soft smile as they pressed into hers. Every butterfly in her chest fought hard to escape as he pulled away once more, resting his forehead against hers. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.” he rasped.

It was her turn to smile as she curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently so he’d look up at her. “You were you,” she smiled.

Steve huffed a laugh. She could see the way his eyes had become glossy again and how his throat worked as he swallowed down whatever emotions were bubbling just beneath the surface. Felicity released him gently, dragging her hand down the side of his neck to his collar bone and pressed him back. “Let’s focus on getting you clean, yeah?”

Surprisingly he didn’t fight her. Steve leaned back into the tub as she began to work the cloth over his skin again. She dipped it into the cooling water, rung it out and began wiping clean the splotches of dirt from his face.

With every swipe of the cloth Felicity could see the color returning to his skin. Slowly but surely all the wounds across his chest closed and the bruises on his jaw and thighs started to fade. His fingers tickled along her arm as if he was tracing the imperfections of her skin as she worked and it was calming. She hadn’t expected to wander out into the forest and find someone like Steve. She just wanted to feel needed and wanted by her surroundings and connect with her dad. She laughed under her breath and Steve flinched from the sound.

“What?” He shifted uncomfortably not from the pain but out of worry.

“Before you put a gun in my face yesterday I asked my father to guide me home,” she said softly, “which at the time I thought differently of but I think he knew something I didn't.”

“You think you were led here?” He asked, curiosity dripping from his words.

Felicity sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. “It sounds crazy.” She laughed softly as she eyed his skin for any blemishes she may have missed.

Steve tilted his head to the side as the corner of his mouth turned up, “Felicity, I’m part wolf, I just told you secrets about this town that if told to someone else could put me into a padded cell.” He chuckled, “that’s the least crazy thing I’ve heard in at least ten years.”

She smiled brightly at him before shrugging, “I guess that’s true.”

She maneuvered herself almost behind him so she could move onto his back. Gently she urged him to lean forward in the tub as she began working on the dirt and scrapes that littered his skin there. “My dad never believed in higher powers,” Felicity almost whispered, “he believed in the things you could see and feel and smell.”

Her voice cracked softly, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “But he always told this story of being alone on the trails or in the mountains and having this sense of someone watching over him. He said that when he got tired or took a wrong turn and his panic settled in there would be this presence. Just a hand on his shoulder guiding him home to us. He said as soon as he’d find his way or get his energy back and felt safe again, it would disappear.” She smiled to herself, “it was the only thing he couldn’t see that he trusted.”

Steve turned his head to glance at her, “you felt him yesterday, didn’t you?”

Her eyes met his and she nodded softly, “more than once—and each time it brought me closer to you.”

He lifted his hand, twirling on a strand of her hair before gently tugging on the end. “Your dad would be proud of you.”

“Shut up,” she whispered with a smile, sniffling a little, “but thank you.”

Felicity finished washing down Steve’s back, hyper aware of the small grunts of satisfaction that slipped from his lips and she wondered just how long it had been since he’d let someone take care of him like this. Taking the bottle of shampoo and holding it up to him in a silent question, she smiled sweetly as he nodded.

“God, please,” he almost whined and so she set to work lathering up his hair.

She took her time running her fingers through the tangles, freeing the knots, and making sure she cleaned all the dirt from his scalp, which earned her a deep groan.

“OK,” she giggled, “rinse off.”

Steve flashed her a grateful smile and slid under the surface of the water, cleaning the suds from his hair before emerging once more. He shook his head, showering Felicity with droplets of water.

“Quit it, Toto,” she squealed, flicking water from the tub back at him, although what she thought that would achieve she didn’t know.

“Toto?! Really?!” He exclaimed, rounding on her with a vulpine grin.

“What…don’t you dare…” Felicity began as an arm snaked its way around her waist and dragged her flailing into the bathtub. “Let go of me! Steve! Oh my God, this water’s filthy!” She spluttered as she stared at him incredulously.

His real laugh echoed out through the tile bathroom as Felicity sat defeated in the murky water. Steve’s amber eyes caught her dark ones and she shook her head, trying her best to look mad, but the feeling of his fingertips skating along the exposed skin of her stomach quickly pulled her out of it.

“Are you happy? Now we both look like wet dogs,” she quipped, flicking water at him with a playful smirk on her face. “How many more of those can I expect from you, hm?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip. Felicity shrugged, as a slight blush crept into her cheeks. Instinctively, she reached up and brush a piece of hair off his forehead, “Sorry, I’ll stop,” she chuckled softly, “I made you laugh though, I think I get credit for that,” she replied, laying her head onto his chest.

Steve hummed again, and turned to press a gentle kiss onto her forehead, “Honestly, I don’t mind it coming from you,” he smiled into her skin and tightened his arms around her a little, “And you get credit for more than just making me laugh,” he whispered.

She grinned, combing her fingers through his wet hair. She felt his own dig into her waist, holding her to him. “Like what?”

He smirked though she didn’t miss the slight tinge of pink in his cheeks. Steve pretended to think for a moment before wrapping his free hand around the back of her neck tugging her to him. His lips crashed against her own in a soft needy way that had her stomach fluttering again. He pulled back gently staring up into her eyes with a sense of awe in them, “for being stubborn,” he whispered before planting a soft kiss on her, “courageous,” kiss “strong,” another kiss only this time slower and sweeter, “and for showing me it’s okay to ask for help.”

Felicity sighed holding his face in her hands. “To be fair you didn’t ask for help.”

Steve bursted out with a laugh and shook his head, “you’re right.” His smile sobered as he pushed back the damp hair stuck to her cheek, “but if it meant spending more time with you I would.”

“I’d like to spend more time with you too,” she whispered back, kissing him sweetly once more. “But please can we shower first? I’m covered in swampy wolf water.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed loud and long. Felicity’s chest tightened at the sight for it was obvious that he didn’t allow himself to be so vulnerable very often.

“Alright, Wildling, pull the plug then.”

Felicity did as he’d asked and the tub began to drain of the now-clouded water. Steve lifted himself up a little and reached around her to turn on the shower, which cascaded blissfully warm water over the pair.

It was Felicity who clambered to her feet first and she held her hand out to help Steve. He took it, despite the fact that his wounds had already healed, and allowed Felicity to haul him to his feet.

She stood before him, her soaked shirt and jeans making her even more conscious of his nakedness. Managing to keep her eyes on his face she swallowed thickly, the tension building quickly between them.

Steve reached out a hand and brushed a gentle thumb across her cheek before sliding it around to cup the back of her neck. He leaned forwards until his lips brushed against hers.

“Do you need me to leave?” He whispered.

She searched his eyes, resting her hands over his chest before sliding them down his skin, over his ribs to wrap her arms around him. Felicity shook her head, “absolutely not.” She whispered. It was breathy and a little needy but feeling his body mold to hers as he wrapped one arm around her waist made her never want to leave this tiny cabin in the woods.

“Tell me what you want Sweet girl.” He whispered back leaning into her and grazing his lips along her cheek, chasing the tiny droplets of warm water away with soft kisses.

She giggled softly despite the fact that her body felt like it was burning and it wasn’t from the heat of the water or him. Felicity wasn’t sure what she was doing when she asked “Help me out of these clothes?” But she knew it felt right.

Steve smiled against her neck where his lips had guided him and nodded. “As you wish.”

His fingertips worked diligently at the hem of her shirt as he helped roll the soaked fabric up over her stomach and chest. The air licked at her bareskin causing her nipples to pebble beneath the sports bra she was wearing. She giggled as Steve’s eyes grew in size, raking down her body with his lips, kissing every inch of bare skin he could find.

Felicity wiggled her hips in protest at how slow he was moving, “the water’s gonna get cold.” She whined as he kissed a trail down her stomach.

“Won’t matter,” he huffed against her skin. “I’ll keep you warm,” he popped the button of her jeans and flipped the hem of them over the top of her ass. Steve’s thumb dug into her hips as he leaned her against the wall for support, shucking her wet jeans down over her body one thigh and calf at a time.

Steve sank to his knees as he freed her from the pants, pausing as he threw them to the side to look up at her. The water ran down around his face, pressing his golden hair around his cheeks and neck. His eyelids were heavy, his chin tilted up toward her with a lazy smile on his lips.

“What’s going on in there?” He made to rise from his knees.

“About thirteen sit, stay jokes,” Felicity laughed as he lunged for her in retaliation. He knocked them both off balance, her back hit the shower wall as his hand wrapped around her and tugged her hips to his.

“This old dog has tricks,” Steve growled against her neck.

He cupped her thigh, tickling down until he gripped her tighter and hoisted her legs up. She wrapped herself around his waist as he adjusted her in his arms. He pushed back a chunk of hair from her shoulder and kissed a line toward her jaw.

“You really said that?” Felicity whispered a chuckle against his temple as he sucked gently at a spot just under her jaw that made something tingle deep within her belly.

“Only for you, but never again,” Steve huffed, pressing his lips in a fiery trail down her neck and across her collarbone.

Felicity gasped at the feel of his lips against her skin, hot, as if he ran warmer than the average person. Needing him closer she crossed her ankles behind his back and squeezed her thighs into his hips, pulling him towards her. He bucked his hips against her and she let out a soft moan as his hard length brushed against her clothed core.

“Steve,” Felicity whimpered, tanging her fingers in his hair and pulling his face up to her once more.

“What, Felicity?” He growled, low and rumbling. “Tell me what you want.”

“Everything,” her eyes dragged over the water droplets that ran down his face, “you, this, I want it all.”

“Are we crazy?” He asked, kissing her gently as he slid her soaked panties down over her legs, letting her kick them away.

“The werewolf asks the stockholmed hiker,” she kissed him back, dragging her lips against his bottom lip. She tangled her fingers into his hair, tugging gently at the nape of his neck. “Insane.”

“As long as we’re both insane,” he gave her a husky laugh.

“Hurry up and get to ravaging,” she tugged harder on his hair to remind him of her growing urgency to have his lips all over her. “Is that what you animals do?”

“You’ll be the death of me,” Steve groaned with the buck of his hips, “but I would die the happiest man.”

She grinned as she dipped her head to nip at the warm skin of his neck, “you sap,” she teased just as he bucked his hips again, his length pushed into her entrance just enough for a gasp to leave her. Felicity dug her fingernails into his shoulders holding on as he slowly sunk further into her with soft grunts.

“Shit,” he hissed as soon as he was completely buried into her. She felt full and warm and her entire body seemed to cover in goosebumps as he licked a stripe up the column of her own neck. “You even taste like sunshine,” he groaned, pulling himself from her and then thrusting into her at such a slow pace her eyes slammed shut with the intensity of it all.

“Steve, please,” She moaned.

He chuckled, “Just give me a moment to savor how you feel, woman.” Steve continued his slow thrusts until the soft growls that left his lips began to grow louder. Felicity tangled her fingers into his hair, tugging as she rolled her hips against his trying to get more of him. To feel more of him. Despite the fact that she was plastered to his body, it still wasn’t close enough.

“I can’t wait anymore,” he breathed almost in a whine, “I need you.” His hips began to move faster, pistoning into her while his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thigh. She was going to have bruises later and for once, Felicity didn’t care.

“You have me,” She whispered before crashing her lips against his.

He growled again against her neck as he thrust into her, the sound sending a thrill down her spine. Her hands grasped at his hair, his neck, scratching along his back, trying to touch as much of him as she could. She couldn’t get close enough.

“God, Felicity, are you even real?” He sighed into her ear.

“As real as you,” she gasped her reply, tightening her thighs around his hips and pulling him closer. “Do that again.”

“What, this?” He said, pumping his hips harder into her.

“No,” she groaned, her fingers clutching his hair. “Growl for me.”

“Fuck Felicity..." He breathed out as he gently scraped his teeth up along her neck, nibbling at her ear. "I frickin love being crazy with you." He circled his hips deep and hard while one hand drifted further up to place over her stomach.

"Steve, plea-”

Dragging his lips to hover over her ear, a much deeper and toe curling, rumbling growl made the hairs on her neck stand straight up and goosebumps litter over her skin in another wave, along with a tingling sensation of pleasure crashing over her. It shot through her body and a moan escaped from her lips as her eyes rolled. For a small second in her hazy mind she wondered how she once was so terrified of it, when it now had made her body and mind so addicted to it.

One of her hands remained tangled in his hair whilst the other drifted down his spine to clutch at his ass, her nails leaving indentations in the firm muscle. A soft whine left his lips and his hot kisses trailed down her neck once more. Felicity could have sworn she saw his eyes flash golden but the sound of ripping fabric drew her attention and her sports bra fell loose around her chest, the straps sliced clean through.

“Did you just…” she gasped, not stopping the movement of her hips against him.

“Sorry,” he muttered as his tongue laved a fiery path over her breasts.

“S’Ok…I didn’t…like…that one…anyway!” Felicity ended on a moan, her head thrown back against the cool tile as Steve took her nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the pebbled peak.

He groaned against her skin as his free hand drifted up along her stomach to knead her other breast, rolling the sensitive nipple between two fingers as he continued to pump into her. The feel of each thrust, every swirl of his tongue and roll of his fingers made her eyes roll back of the sensation coursing through, chanting his name as her hands gripped his damp blonde locks a bit tighter to hold herself up.

"Yeah so worth the death of that stupid bra." She panted, feeling a boyish smirk forming over her skin as her heels dug deeper into his back.

A gentle bite to her nipple made her suck in a breath from the sudden tingle, a whimper quickly forming in her throat as the throbbing feeling between her legs intensified. Releasing her nipple and lifting his head, he pressed his lips to her into a hungry and lust filled kiss before sucking on her bottom lip and releasing it with a pop. His lips moving over hers as he spoke with ragged breaths.

"If you could only see now, Felicity...god...this perfect face just for me to look at, these beautiful noises just for me to hear." He panted as the hand around her breast moved further down, smooth fingers tickling her skin and filled her with anticipation as they came closer to her needy bud. "Give it all to me, angel." He cooed just before his thumb pressed down and began to circle over her clit.

As the tension coiled in her stomach Felicity held on to him with every ounce of strength she had left, her toes curling and her back arching. Steve flexed against her, holding her tightly with one arm and working at her clit with the other hand. He rocked into her, hitting every nerve as his impressive length slid through her over and over bringing her to the edge. She felt like she was flying as the water ran cold and hit her sensitive skin. She cried out, dragging her fingernails through the skin on his back, hooking into his shoulder blades as her vision became spotty.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Felicity look at me,” he begged a second time when she didn’t listen.

When she finally pried her eyes open he stared up at her with hazy golden eyes, his hair matted to his forehead and neck from the water. His soft, pink lips were sore from kisses and his eyelashes were wet with tiny droplets of water. He looked like an angel in the dim bathroom lighting.

“There’s my girl,” he ran his teeth against her bottom lip, slamming up into her relentlessly until the rubber band within her was taut again, ready to snap for a second time. “One more, together.” He growled, biting harder against her skin this time, sure to leave marks that she’d bare in the morning light.

“Steve,” she whimpered, clutching onto his shoulders, his biceps, one hand burrowing into his hair as she clenched tightly around him.

“That’s it, Beautiful, that’s it. God I can feel you, so close again for me.”

His rhythm faltered, hips stuttering against her as he neared his end. He pulled her even closer against him and with a final hard thrust he spilled inside her but it was the deep, animalistic snarl that escaped from his lips that sent her plummeting over the edge of her own release. Chests heaving, Steve dropped his forehead to rest against hers and she nudged her nose softly against his damp cheek.

Cold water sprinkled over their bodies but Felicity barely felt it, the heat radiating from Steve was enough to stave off the chill. He noticed anyway, the way the goosebumps rose upon her skin and how she burrowed deeper into his arms.

“Come on Mountain Woman,” he said softly, his voice thick with affection and some other emotion she couldn’t quite place. “Let’s get you warm and dry.”

He pulled away from her and Felicity almost whined again at the loss of contact but it wasn’t for long. He turned off the freezing shower and cleaned them both with a washcloth before wrapping her in the largest towel he had in the bathroom. He swept her up in his arms and she let out a joyful giggle as he carried her through to the bedroom.

He opened the bedroom door with a kick of his boot, revealing a dark room with only the moonlight illumination the far end corner from the window besides the bed. He placed her down on the edge of it, nothing more than just a dark wooden frame, it creaking when she sank down to the mattress, but it actually felt more comfortable than they eye could tell. He rubbed her arms with a tender smile on his lips, making sure that the towel was secured around her to not let the warmth escape.

"Ah, so you do actually have a bed, and sleep?" She couldn't help the playful smile that escaped when he shook his head with a chuckle, rounding the bed to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

"I'm still human you know?"

"Oh, I didn't meant it like-"

He walked back to her and gave a quick peck to her nose. "Don't worry your little heart out sweetie, I'm just messing around with ya, like you do you know." He winked, his warm hand cupping her cheek and she leaned into it, thumb caressing the skin under her eye.

The feeling of being embraced with a promise of safety and something else that made her heart flutter and she sighed into his palm.

"I'm gonna see if I can find some clothes for you, okay?" His knuckles slid down her cheek to rest against his side before walking to another door across the room.

Felicity sunk down into the mattress and tucked her towel tighter around herself as she watched him work. Flipping through endless plaid shirts, Steve paused just for a moment on a jean jacket, running his fingertips over the fabric before shaking his head once and moving it to the side.

Finally, Steve pulled out a light grey hoodie with a faded green tiger embellished on the front of it, along with a pair of blue gym shorts. With a soft smile, he made his way back over to where Felicity was and gestured to her to put her arms up.

“I can dress myself you know,” she quipped with a playful smirk.

Steve rolled his eyes, and gestured again, “always so stubborn,” he let out a light chuckle as his fingers ghosted up her arms before helping her pull the sweater over her head.

Felicity moved her towel, dropping it onto the floor and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, watching as Steve moved to kneel between her legs. He took her ankle in his hand and pressed a kiss to the side of her calf. He tucked her foot into the leg of shorts, followed by the other one and pulled them up, a giggle falling from both of them as Felicity wiggled her hips in an attempt to help.

“Better?” Steve asked, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

With a soft hum, she sank down into his bed with a satisfied smile, “I’ll be better once you’re here with me.”

Steve smiled softly and shook his head, letting out a sigh as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there. Sliding beneath the covers with her, his breath hitched as Felicity snuggled into his chest and slid one leg over his thighs.

“It’s been a while since I last did something like this,” he rumbled, wrapping his arm around her and tracing delicate patterns across her arm with his fingertips.

“Then let’s make sure it happens again,” Felicity mumbled sleepily, nuzzling her nose against the scattering of hair across his chest before they both drifted off into a comfortable slumber.

Summer gave way to fall and evenings came earlier and were crisp with frost. Felicity sat on one of the large wooden chairs that now had a home of the porch of the wooden cabin, a steaming mug of tea in her hand. She turned the page of her book, the words illuminated by the orange glow of the lantern hung above her, and pulled her thick blanket closer around her shoulders

A crackle of twigs breaking drew her attention to the forest beyond and her heart thudded at the low, rumbling growl that penetrated the trees. Her lips turned up at the corners as the dark figure emerged into the clearing and prowled over towards the cabin, it’s eyes glowing a brighter gold than the lanterns.

The giant wolf made its way to the stairs, deposited two rabbits at the bottom, and then looked toward Felicity. It cocked its head to the side and it’s ear twitched, as if it were proud of itself. Felicity sighed but there was a teasing note to her voice.

“You can clean those yourself, you know. I’m not doing it for you. Anyone else would just go to the store.”

The wolf whined a little and blinked it’s large golden eyes at her before hanging it’s tongue out of its mouth and panting comically. Felicity giggled and laid her book down on the deck before opening her arms.

“C’mere Steve,” she chuckled.

The wolf huffed and trotted up the stairs. Curling himself up next to Felicity’s chair he laid his head on her lap and almost purred like a kitten when she ran her hands over his fur and scratched behind his ears. She pressed a kiss onto his velvety nose and the two of them settled down to await the transformation that morning would bring.

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